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Copyright, 
By Thomas Y. Crowell & Co. 



Photogravures by A. W. Elson & Co., Boston. 



T. Y. Crowell & Co., Bookbinders, Boston. 



THE ALHAMBEA. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Dedication 5 

The Journey 7 

Government of the Alhambra . . , . . 19 

Interior op the Alhambra 22 

The Tower of Comares 28 

Reflections on the Moslem Domination in Spain 31 

The Household 34 

The Truant . . . . v 37 

The Author's Chamber „ 40 

The Alhambra by Moonlight 44 

Inhabitants of the Alhambra 45 

The Balcony 48 

The Adventure of the Mason 52 

A Ramble among the Hills 55 

The Court of Lions 61 

boabdil el chico 65 

Mementos of Boabdil 68 

The Tower of Las Infantas 71 

The House of the Weathercock 72 

Legend of the Arabian Astrologer 73 

Legend of the Three Beautiful Princesses 87 

Legend of the Moor's Legacy 106 

Visitors to the Alhambra 122 

Legend of Prince Ahmed al Kamel; or, The Pilgrim of Love .... 127 
Legend of the Rose of the Alhambra; or, The Page and the Ger-Falcon, 151 

The Veteran 163 

The Governor and the Notary 164 

Governor Manco and the Soldier 170 

Legend of the Two Discreet Statues 183 

Mahamad Aben Alahmar, the Founder of the Alhambra 197 

Jusef Abul Hagias, the Finisher of the Alhambra -> . 202 



DEDICATION. 



To David Wilkie, Esq., R.A. 

My dear Sir : — You may remember that, in the course of the 
rambles we once took together about some of the old cities of 
Spain, particularly Toledo and Seville, we frequently remarked 
the mixture of the Saracenic with the Gothic, remaining from 
the time of the Moors, and were more than once struck with 
incidents and scenes in the streets, that brought to mind pas- 
sages in the "Arabian Nights." You then urged me to write 
something illustrative of these peculiarities ; 4i something in the 
Haroun Alraschid style," that should have a dash of that Ara- 
bian spice which pervades every thing in Spain. I call this to 
mind to show you that you are, in some degree, responsible for 
the present work ; in which I have given a few '' Arabesque " 
sketches and tales, taken from the life, or founded on local tra- 
ditions, and mostly struck off during a residence in one of the 
most legendary and Morisco-Spanish places of the Peninsula. 

I inscribe this work to you, as a memorial of the pleasant 
scenes we have witnessed together, in that land of adventure, 
and as a testimony of an esteem for your worth, which can 
only be exceeded by admiration of your talents. 

Your friend and fellow traveller, 

THE AUTHOR. 



THE ALHAMBRA. 



A SERIES OF TALES AND SKETCHES OF THE MOORS AND 

SPANIARDS. 



THE JOURNEY. 



In the spring of 1829, the author of this work, whom curiosity 
had brought into Spain, made a rambling expedition from 
Seville to Granada, in company with a friend, a member of the 
Russian embassy at Madrid. Accident had thrown us together 
from distant regions of the globe, and a similarity of taste led 
us to wander together among; the romantic mountains of An- 
dalusia. Should these pages meet his eye, wherever thrown 
by the duties of his station, whether mingling in the pageantry 
of courts or meditating on the truer glories of nature, may they 
recall the scenes of our adventurous companionship, and with 
them the remembrance of one, in whom neither time nor dis- 
tance will obliterate the recollection of his gentleness and 
worth. 

And here, before setting forth, let me indulge in a few pre- 
vious remarks on Spanish scenery and Spanish travelling. 
Many are apt to picture Spain in their imaginations as a soft 
southern region decked out with all the luxuriant charms of 
voluptuous Italy. On the contrary, though there are excep- 
tions in some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater 
part, it is a stern, melancholy country, with rugged mountains 
and long, naked, sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and inva- 
riably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary 
character of Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, 
is the absence of singing birds, a natural consequence of the 
want of groves and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen 
wheeling about the mountain cliffs and soaring over the plains, 
and groups of shy bustards stalk about the heaths, but the 

7 



8 THE ALHAMBRA. 

myriads of smaller birds, which animate the whole face of 
other countries, are met with in but few provinces of Spain, and 
in them chiefly among the orchards and gardens which sur- 
round the habitations of man. 

In the exterior provinces, the traveller occasionally traverses 
great tracts cultivated with grain as far as the e}'e can reach, 
waving at times with verdure, at other times naked and sun- 
burnt ; but he looks round in vain for the hand that has tilled 
the soil: at length he perceives some village perched on a steep 
hill, or rugged crag, with mouldering battlements and ruHjed 
watch-tower; a stronghold, in old times, against civil war or 
Moorish inroad ; for the custom among the peasantry of congre- 
gating together for mutual protection, is still kept up in most 
parts of Spain, in consequence of the marauding of roving free- 
booters. 

But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the garniture 
of groves and forests, and the softer charms of ornamental cul- 
tivation, yet its sceneiy has something of a high and lofty char- 
acter to compensate the want. It partakes something of the 
attributes of its people, and I think that I better understand 
the proud, hardy, frugal and abstemious Spaniard, his manly 
defiance of hardships, and contempt of effeminate indulgences, 
since I have seen the country he inhabits. 

There is something, too, in the sternly simple features of the 
Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sub- 
limity. The immense plains of the Castiles and La Mancha, 
extending as far' as the eye can reach, derive an interest from 
their very nakedness and immensity, and have something of 
the solemn grandeur of the ocean. In ranging over these 
boundless wastes, the eye catches sight, here and there, of a 
straggling herd of cattle attended by a lonely herdsman, mo- 
tionless as a statue, with his slender pike tapering up like 
a lance into the air ; or beholds a long train of mules slowly 
moving along the waste like a train of camels in the desert, or 
a single herdsman, armed with blunderbuss and stiletto, and 
prowling over the plain. Thus, the country, the habits, the 
very looks of the people, have something of the Arabian char- 
acter. The general insecurity of the country is evinced in the 
universal use of weapons. The herdsman in the field, the shep- 
herd in the plain, has his musket and his knife. The wealthy 
villager rarely ventures to the market-town without his trabu- 
cho, and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on 
his shoulder ; and the most petty journey is undertaken with 
the preparations of a warlike enterprise. 



THE JOURNEY. 9 

The clangers of the road produce, also, a mode of travelling, 
resembling, on a diminutive scale, the caravans of the East. 
The arrieros, or carriers, congregate in troops, and set off in 
large and well-armed trains on appointed days, while individual 
travellers swell their number and contribute to their strength. 
In this primitive way is the commerce of the country carried 
on. The muleteer is the general medium of traffic, and the 
legitimate wanderer of the land, traversing the Peninsula from 
the Pyrenees and the Asturias, to the Alpuxarras, the Serrania 
de Ronda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. He lives frugally 
and hardily ; his alforjas (or saddle-bags), of coarse cloth, hold 
his scanty stock of provisions ; a leathern bottle hanging at his 
saddle-bow, contains wine or water for a supply across barren 
mountains and thirsty plains ; a mule cloth spread upon the 
ground is his bed at night, and his pack-saddle is his pillow. 
His low but clear-limbed and sinewy form betokens strength ; 
his complexion is dark and sun-burnt ; his eye resolute, but 
quiet in its expression, except when kindled by sudden emo- 
tion ; his demeanor is frank, manly, and courteous, and he 
never passes you without a grave salutation — ' ' Dios guarda a 
usted ! " — " Vay usted con Dios caballero ! " — " God guard 
} t ou ! " — " God be with you ! cavalier ! " 

As these men have often their whole fortune at stake upon 
the burden of their mules, the}' have their weapons at hand, 
slung to their saddles, and ready to be snatched down for des- 
perate defence. But their united numbers render them secure 
against petty bands of marauders, and the solitary bandalero, 
armed to the teeth, and mounted on his Andalusian steed, 
hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, 
without daring to make an assault. 

The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs 
and ballads, with which to beguile his incessant wayfaring. 
The airs are rude and simple, consisting of but few inflexions. 
These he chants forth with a loud voice, and long drawling 
cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who seems to listen with 
infinite gravity, and to keep time with his paces, to the tune. 
The couplets thus chanted are often old traditional romances 
about the Moors ; or some legend of a saint ; or some love 
ditty ; or, what is still more frequent, some ballad about a bold 
contrabandista, or hardy bandalero ; for the smuggler and the 
robber are poetical heroes among the common people of Spain, 
Often the song of the muleteer is composed at the instant, and 
relates to some local scene, or some incident of the journey. 
This talent of singing and improvising is frequent in Spain, 



10 THE ALHAMBBA. 

and is said to have been inherited from the Moors. There is 
something wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among the 
rude and lonely scenes they illustrate, accompanied as they are, 
by the occasional jingle of the mule-bell. 

It has a most picturesque effect, also, to meet a train of mule- 
teers in some mountain pass. First you hear the bells of the 
leading mules, breaking with their simple melody the stillness 
of the airy height ; or, perhaps, the voice of the muleteer ad- 
monishing some tardy or wandering animal, or chanting, at 
the full stretch of his lungs, some traditionary ballad. At 
length you see the mules slowly winding along the cragged 
defile, sometimes descending precipitous cliffs, so as to present 
themselves in full relief against the sk} 7 , sometimes toiling up 
the deep arid chasms below you. As they approach, you descry 
their gay decorations of worsted tufts, tassels, and saddle- 
cloths ; while, as they pass by, the ever ready trabucho, slung 
behind their packs and saddles, gives a hint of the insecurity of 
the road. 

The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we are about 
to penetrate, is one of the most mountainous regions of Spain. 
Vast sierras or chains of mountains, destitute of shrub or tree, 
and mottled with variegated marbles and granites, elevate their 
sunburnt summits against a deep blue sky, yet in their rugged 
bosoms lie ingulfed the most verdant and fertile valley, where 
the desert and the garden strive for mastery, and the very rock, 
as it were, compelled to yield the fig, the orange, and the cit- 
ron, and to blossom with the myrtle and the rose. 

In the wild passes of these mountains, the sight of walled 
towns and villages built like eagles' nests among the cliffs, and 
surrounded by Moorish battlements, or of ruined watch-towers 
perched on lofty peaks, carry the mind back to the chivalrous 
days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and to the romantic 
struggle for the conquest of Granada. In traversing their lofty 
Sierras, the traveller is often obliged to alight and lead his horse 
up and down the steep and jagged ascents and descents, resem- 
bling the broken steps of a staircase. Sometimes the road 
winds along dizzy precipices, without parapet to guard him 
from the gulfs below, and then will plunge down steep and 
dark and dangerous declivities. Sometimes it struggles through 
rugged barrancos, or ravines, worn by water torrents ; the ob- 
scure paths of the Contrabandista, while ever and anon, the 
ominous cross, the memento of robbery and murder, erected 
on a mound of stones at some lonely part of the road, admon- 
ishes the traveller that he is among the haunts of banditti ; 



THE JOURNEY. 11 

perhaps, at that very moment, under the eye of some lurking 
bandalero. Sometimes, in winding through the narrow valleys, 
he is startled by a horse bellowing, and beholds above him, on 
some green fold of the mountain side, a herd of fierce Andalu- 
sian bulls, destined for the combat of the arena. There is 
something awful in the contemplation of these terrific animals, 
clothed with tremendous strength, and ranging their native 
pastures, in untamed wildness : strangers almost to the face of 
man. They know no one but the solitary herdsman who attends 
upon them, and even he at times dares not venture to approach 
them. The low bellowings of these bulls, and their menacing 
aspect as they look down from their rocky height, give addi- 
tional wildness to the savage scenery around. 

I have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer disquisition 
than I had intended on the several features of Spanish travel- 
ling ; but there is a romance about all the recollections of the 
Peninsula that is dear to the imagination. 

It was on the first of May that my companion and myself 
set forth from Seville, on our route to Grauada. We had made 
all due preparations for the nature of our journey, which lay 
through mountainous regions where the roads are little better 
than mere mule paths, and too frequently beset by robbers. 
The most; valuable part of our luggage had been forwarded by 
the arrieros ; we retained merely clothing and necessaries for 
the journey, and money for the expenses of the road, with a 
sufficient surplus of the latter to satisfy the expectations of 
robbers, should we be assailed, and to save ourselves from the 
rough treatment that awaits the too wary and empty handed 
traveller. A couple of stout hired steeds were provided for 
ourselves, and a third for our scanty luggage, and for the 
conveyance of a sturdy Biscayan lad of about twenty years of 
age, who was to guide us through the perplexed mazes of the 
mountain roads, to take care of our horses, to act occasionally 
as our valet, and at all times as our guard ; for he had a for- 
midable trabucho, or carbine, to defend us from rateros, or 
solitary footpads, about which weapon he made much vain- 
glorious boast, though, to the discredit of his generalship, I 
must say that it generally hung unloaded behind his saddle. 
He was, however, a faithful, cheery, kind-hearted creature, full 
of saws and proverbs as that miracle of squires, the renowned 
Sancho himself, whose name we bestowed upon him ; and, like 
a true Spaniard, though treated by us with companionable 
familiarity, he never for a moment in his utmost hilarity over- 
stepped the bounds of respectful decorum. 



12 THE ALHAMBEA. 

Thus equipped and attended, we set out on our journey with 
a genuine disposition to be pleased : with such a disposition, 
what a country is Spain for a traveller, where the most miser- 
able inn is as full of adventure as an enchanted castle, and 
every meal is in itself an achievement ! Let others repine at 
the lack of turnpike roads and sumptuous hotels, and all the 
elaborate comforts of a countiy cultivated into tameness and 
commonplace, but give me the rude mountain scramble, the 
roving haphazard wayfaring, the frank, hospitable, though half 
wild manners, that give such a true game flavor to romantic 
Spain ! 

Our first evening's entertainment had a relish of the kind. 
We arrived after sunset at a little town among the hills, after 
a fatiguing journey over a wide houseless plain, where we had 
been repeatedly drenched with showers. In the inn were 
quartered a party of Miguelistas, who were patrolling the 
country in pursuit of robbers. The appearance of foreigners 
like ourselves was unusual in this remote town. Mine host with 
two or three old gossiping comrades in brown cloaks studied 
our passports in the corner of the posada, while an Alguazil 
took notes by the dim light of a lamp. The passports were in 
foreign languages and perplexed them, but our Squire Sancho 
assisted them in their studies, and magnified our importance 
with the grandiloquence of a Spaniard. In the mean time the 
magnificent distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of 
all around us. In a little while the whole community seemed 
put in agitation to make us welcome. The Corregidor himself 
waited upon us, and a great rush-bottomed armed chair was 
ostentatiously bolstered into our room by our landlady, for 
the accommodation of that important personage. The com- 
mander of the patrol took supper with us : a surly, talking, 
laughing, swaggering Andaluz, who had made a campaign in 
South America, and recounted his exploits in love and war 
with much pomp of praise and vehemence of gesticulation, and 
mysterious rolling of the eye. He told us he had a list of all 
the robbers in the country, and meant to ferret out every 
mother's son of them ; he offered us at the same time some of 
his soldiers as an escort. Ck One is enough to protect you, 
Signors ; the robbers know me, and know my men ; the sight 
of one is enough to spread terror through a whole sierra." 
We thanked him for his offer, but assured him, in his own 
strain, that with the protection of our redoubtable Squire 
Sancho, we were not afraid of all the ladrones of Andalusia. 

While we were supping with our Andalusian friend, we heard 



THE JOURNEY. 13 

the notes of a guitar and the click of castanets, and presently, a 
chorus of voices, singing a popular air. In fact, mine host had 
gathered together the amateur singers and musicians and the 

DO ~ 

rustic belles of the neighborhood, and on going forth, the court- 
yard of the inn presented a scene of true Spanish festivity. 
We took our seats with miue host and hostess and the com- 
mander of the patrol, under the archway of the court. The 
guitar passed from hand to hand, but a jovial shoemaker was 
the Orpheus of the place. He was a pleasant looking fellow 
with huge black whiskers and a roguish eye. His sleeves were 
rolled up to his elbows ; he touched the guitar with masterly 
skill, and sang little amorous ditties with an expressive leer at 
the women, with whom he was evidently a favorite. He after- 
wards danced a fandango with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to 
the great delight of the spectators. But none of the females 
present could compare with mine host's pretty daughter Josefa, 
who had slipped away and made her toilet for the occasion, 
and had adorned her head with roses ; and also distinguished 
herself in a bolero with a handsome young dragoon. We had 
ordered our host to let wine and refreshments circulate freely 
among the company, yet, though there was a motley assemblage 
of soldiers, muleteers, and villagers, no one exceeded the bounds 
of sober enjoyment. The scene was a study for a painter : the 
picturesque group of dancers ; the troopers in their half mili- 
tary dresses, the peasantiy wrapped in their brown cloaks, nor 
must I omit to mention the old meagre Alguazil in a short 
black cloak, who took no notice of any thing going on, but sat 
in a corner diligently writing by the dim light of a huge copper 
lamp that might have figured in the da} T s of Don Quixote. 

I am not writing a regular narrative, and do not pretend to 
give the varied events of several days' rambling over hill and 
dale, and moor and mountain. We travelled in true contra- 
bandista st3 r le, taking every thing, rough and smooth, as we 
found it, and mingling with all classes and conditions in a kind 
of vagabond companionship. It is the true way to travel in 
Spain. Knowing the scanty larders of the inns, and the naked 
tracts of country the traveller has often to traverse, we had 
taken care, on starting, to have the alforjas, or saddle-bags, of 
our Squire well stocked with cold provisions, and his beta, or 
leathern bottle, which was of portly dimensions, filled to the 
neck with choice Valdepenas wine. As this was a munition for 
our campaign more important than even his trabucho, we ex- 
horted him to have an eye to it, and I will do him the justice to 
<ay that his namesake, the trencher-loving Sancho himself, could 



14 THE AL2AMBBA. 

not excel him as a provident purveyor. Though the alforjas 
and beta were repeatedly and vigorously assailed throughout 
the journey, they appeared to have a miraculous property of 
being never empty ; for our vigilant Squire took care to sack 
every thing that remained from our evening repasts at the inns, 
to supply our next day's luncheon. 

What luxurious noontide repasts have we made on the green 
sward by the side of a brook or fountain under a shady tree, 
and then what delicious siestas on our cloaks spread out on the 
herbage ! 

We paused one day at noon, for a repast of the kind. It was 
in a pleasant little green meadow, surrounded by hills covered 
with olive trees. Our cloaks were spread on the grass under an 
elm tree, by the side of a babbling rivulet : our horses were 
tethered where they might crop the herbage, and Sancho pro- 
duced his alforjas with an air of triumph. They contained the 
contributions of four days 3 journeying, but had been signally 
enriched by the foraging of the previous evening, in a plenteous 
inn at Antequera. Our Squire drew forth the heterogeneous 
contents one by one, and they seemed to have no end. First 
came forth a shoulder of roasted kid, very little the worse for 
wear, then an entire partridge, then a great morsel of salted cod- 
fish wrapped in paper, then the residue of a ham, then the half 
of a pullet, together with several rolls of bread and a rabble 
rout of oranges, figs, raisins, and walnuts. His beta also had 
been recruited with some excellent wine of Malaga. At eveiy 
fresh apparition from his larder, he could enjoy our ludicrous 
surprise, throwing himself back on the grass and shouting with 
laughter. 

Nothing pleased this simple-hearted varlet more than to be 
compared, for his devotion to the trencher, to the renowned 
squire of Don Quixote. He was well versed in the history of 
the Don, and, like most of the common people of Spain, he 
firmly believed it to be a true history. 

" All that, however, happened a long time ago, Signor," said 
he to me, one day, with an inquiring look. 

" A very long time," was the reply. 

" I dare say, more than a thousand years?" — still looking 
dubiously. 

" I dare say not \ess." 

The Squire w^s satisfied. 

As we were making our repast above described, and divert- 
ing ourselves with the simple drollery of our Squire, a solitary 
beggar approached us, who had almost the look of a pilgrim. 



THE JOURNEY. 15 

He was evidently very old, with a gray beard, and supported 
himself on a staff, yet age had not borne him down ; he was 
tall and erect, and had the wreck of a fine form. He wore a 
round Andalusian hat, a sheepskin jacket, and leathern breeches, 
gaiters, and sandals. His dress, though old and patched, was 
decent, his demeanor manly, and he addressed us with that 
grave courtesy that is to be remarked in the lowest Spaniard. 
We were in a favorable mood for such a visitor, and in a freak 
of capricious charity gave him some silver, a loaf of fine wheaten 
bread, and a goblet of our choice wine of Malaga. He received 
them thankfully, but without any grovelling tribute of grati- 
tude. Tasting the wine, he held it up to the light, with a 
slight beam of surprise in his eye ; then quaffing it off at a 
draught: "It is many years," said he, " since I have tasted 
such wine. It is a cordial to an old man's heart." Then look- 
ing at the beautiful wheaten loaf: " Bendita sea tal pan! " 
(blessed be such bread!) So saying, he put it in his wallet. 
We urged him to eat it on the spot. " No, Signors," replied 
he, " the wine I had to drink, or leave ; but the bread I must 
take home to share with my family." 

Our man Sancho sought our eye, and reading permission 
there, gave the old man some of the ample fragments of our 
repast ; on condition, however, that he should sit down and 
make a meal. He accordingly took his seat at some little dis- 
tance from us, and began to eat, slowly, and with a sobriety 
and decorum that would have become a hidalgo. There was 
altogether a measured manner and a quiet self-possession about 
the old man, that made me think he had seen better da} T s ; his 
language, too, though simple, had occasionally something pic- 
turesque and almost poetical in the phraseology. I set him 
down for some broken-down cavalier. I was mistaken, it was 
nothing but the innate courtesy of a Spaniard, and the poetical 
turn of thought and language often to be found in the lowest 
classes of this clear-witted people. For fifty years, he told us, 
he had been a shepherd, but now he was out of employ, aud 
destitute. "When I was a young man," said he, " nothing- 
could harm or trouble me. I was always well, always gay ; 
but now I am seventy-nine years of age, and a beggar, and my 
heart begins to fail me." 

Still he was not a regular mendicant, it was not until recently 
that want had driven him to this degradation, and he gave a 
touching picture of the struggle between hunger and pride, when 
abject destitution first came upon him. He was returning from 
Malaga, without money ; he had not tasted food for some time, 



16 THE ALHAMBRA. 

and was crossing one of the great plains of Spain, where there 
were but few habitations. When almost dead with hunger, he 
applied at the door of a venta, or countiy inn. " Perdona usted 
por Dios hermano ! " (excuse us, brother, for God's sake !) was 
the reply ; — the usual mode in Spain of refusing a beggar. " I 
turned away," said he, " with shame greater than my hunger, 
for my heart was yet too proud. I came to a river with high 
banks and deep rapid current, and felt tempted to throw my- 
self in ; what should such an old worthless wretched man as I 
live for ! But when I was on the brink of the current, I thought 
on the blessed Virgin, and turned away. I travelled on until I 
saw a country-seat, at a little distance from the road,, and en- 
tered the outer gate of the courtyard. The door was shut, but 
there were two young signoras at the window. I approached 
and begged : ' Perdona usted por Dios hermano ! ' ( excuse 
us, brother, for God's sake!) and the window closed. I crept 
out of the court-yard ; but hunger overcame me, and my heart 
gave way. I thought ni}^ hour was at hand. So I laid m} T self 
clown at the gate, commended myself to the holy Virgin, and 
covered m} r head to die. In a little while afterwards, the mas- 
ter of the house came home. Seeing me lying at his gate, he 
uncovered my head, had pity on my gray hairs, took me into 
his house, and gave me food. So, Signors, you see that we 
should always put confidence in the protection of the Virgin." 

The old man was on his way to his native place Archidona, 
which was close b} T the summit of a steep and rugged mountain. 
He pointed to the ruins of its old Moorish castle. That castle, 
he said, was inhabited b} T a Moorish kiug at the time of the 
wars of Granada. Queen Isabella invaded it with a great 
army, but the king looked down from his castle among the 
clouds, and laughed her to scorn. Upon this, the Virgin ap- 
peared to the queen, and guided her and her army up a ni3's- 
terious path of the mountain, which had never before been 
known. When the Moor saw her coming, he was astonished, 
and springing with his horse from a precipice, was dashed to 
pieces. The marks of his horse's hoofs, said the old man, are 
to be seen on the margin of the rock to this day. And see, 
Signors, yonder is the road by which the queen and her army 
mounted, you see it like a ribbon up the mountain side ; but 
the miracle is, that, though it can be seen at a distance, when 
you come near, it disappears. The ideal road to which he 
ppinted, was evidently a sandy ravine of the mountain, which 
looked narrow and defined at a distance, but became broad and 
indistinct on an approach. As the old man's heart warmed 



THE JOURNEY. 17 

with wine and wassail, he went on to tell us a story of the buried 
treasure left under the earth by the Moorish king. His own 
house was next to the foundations of the castle. The curate 
and notary dreamt three times of the treasure, and went to 
work at the place pointed out in their dreams. His own son- 
in-law heard the sound of their pick-axes and spades at night. 
What they found nobody knows ; they became suddenly rich, 
but kept their own secret. Thus the old man had once been 
next door to fortune, but was doomed never to get under the 
same roof. 

I have remarked that the stories of treasure buried by the 
Moors, which prevail throughout Spain, are most current 
among the poorest people. It is thus kind nature consoles 
with shadows for the lack of substantials. The thirsty man 
dreams of fountains and roaring streams, the hungry man of ideal 
banquets, and the poor man of heaps of hidden gold ; nothing 
certainly is more magnificent than the imagination of a beggar. 

The last travelling sketch which I shall give is a curious 
scene at the little city of Loxa. This was a famous belligerent 
frontier post, in the time of the Moors, and repulsed Ferdinand 
from its walls. It was the stronghold of old Ali Atar, the 
father-in-law of Boabdil, when that fiery veteran sallied forth 
with his son-in-law, on that disastrous inroad, that ended in 
the death of the chieftain, and the capture of the monarch. 
Loxa is wildly situated in a broken mountain pass, on the 
banks of the Xenil, among rocks and groves, and meadows 
and gardens. The people seem still to retain the bold fiery 
spirit of the olden time. Our inn was suited to the place. It 
was kept by a young, handsome, Anclalusian widow, whose 
trim busquina of black silk fringed with bugles, set off the 
play of a graceful form, and round pliant limbs. Her step was 
firm and elastic, her dark eye was full of fire, and the coquetry 
of her air and varied ornaments of her person showed that 
she was accustomed to be admired. 

She was well matched by a brother, nearly about her own 
age ; they were perfect models of the Andalusian majo and 
maja. He was tall, vigorous, and well formed, with a clear, 
olive complexion, a dark beaming eye, and curling, chestnut 
whiskers, that met under his chin. He was gallantly dressed 
in a short green velvet jacket, fitted to his shape, profusely 
decorated with silver buttons, with a white handkerchief in 
each pocket. He had breeches of the same, with rows of but- 
tons from the hips to the knees ; a pink silk handkerchief round 
his neck, gathered through a ring, on the bosom of a neatly 



18 THE ALHAMBEA. 

plaited shirt ; a sash round the waist to match ; bottinas or 
spatterdashes of the finest russet leather, elegantly worked and 
open at the calves to show his stockings, and russet shoes set- 
ting off a well-shaped foot. 

As he was standing at the door, a horseman rode up and 
entered into low and earnest conversation with him. He was 
dressed in similar style, and almost with equal finery. A man 
about thirty, square built, with strong Roman features, hand- 
some, though slightly pitted with the small-pox, with a free, 
bold, and somewhat daring air. His powerful black horse was 
decorated with tassels and fanciful trappings, and a couple of 
broad-mouthed blunderbusses hung behind the saddle. He had 
the air of those contrabandistas that I have seen in the moun- 
tains of Ronda, and, evidently, had a good understanding with 
the brother of mine hostess ; nay, if I mistake not, he was a 
favorite admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn and its 
inmates had something of a contrabandista aspect, and the 
blunderbuss stood in a corner beside the guitar. The horseman 
I have mentioned, passed his evening in the posada, and sang 
several bold mountain romances with great spirit. 

As we were at supper, two poor Asturians put in in distress, 
begging food and a night's lodging. They had been waylaid by 
robbers as they came from a fair among the mountains, robbed 
of a horse, which carried all their stock in trade, stripped of 
their money and most of their apparel, beaten for having 
offered resistance, and left almost naked in the road. My com- 
panion, with a prompt generosity, natural to him, ordered them 
a supper and a bed, and gave them a supply of money to help 
them forward towards their home. 

As the evening advanced, the dramatis persona? thickened. 
A large man, about sixty years of age, of powerful frame, came 
strolling in, to gossip with mine hostess. He was dressed in 
the ordinary Andalusian costume, but had a huge sabre tucked 
under his arm, wore large mustaches, and had something of a 
lofty, swaggering air. Every one seemed to regard him with 
great deference. 

Our man, Sancho, whispered to us that he was Don Ventura 
Rodriguez, the hero and champion of Loxa, famous for his 
prowess and the strength of his arm. In the time of the French 
invasion, he surprised six troopers who were asleep. He first 
secured their horses, then attacked them with his sabre ; killed 
some, and took the rest prisoners. For this exploit, the king 
allows him a peceta, (the fifth of a duro, or dollar,) per day, 
and has dignified him with the title of Don. 



GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 19 

I was amused to notice his swelling language and demeanor. 
He was evidently a thorough Andalusian, boastful as he was 
brave. His sabre was always in his hand, or under his arm. 
He carries it always about with him as a child does a doll, calls 
it his Santa Teresa, and says, that when he draws it, " tembla 
la tierra ! " (the earth trembles !) 

I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes of this 
motley group, who mingled together with the unreserve of a 
Spanish posada. We had contrabandista songs, stories of rob- 
bers, guerilla exploits, and Moorish legends. The last one from 
our handsome landlady, who gave a poetical account of the 
infiernos, or infernal regions of Loxa — dark caverns, in which 
subterraneous streams and waterfalls make a mysterious sound. 
The common people say there are money coiners shut up there 
from the time of the Moors, and that the Moorish kings kept 
their treasures in these caverns. 

Were it the purport of this work, I could fill its pages with 
the incidents and scenes of our rambling expedition, but other 
themes invite me. Journeying in this manner, we at length 
emerged from the mountains, and entered upon the beautiful 
Vega of Granada. Here we took our last mid-day's repast 
under a grove of olive trees, on the borders of a rivulet, with 
the old Moorish capital in the distance, dominated by the ruddy 
towers of the Alhambra, while far above it the snow}* summits 
of the Sierra Nevada shone like silver. The day was without 
a cloud, and the heat of the sun tempered by cool breezes 
from the mountains ; after our repast, we spread our cloaks and 
took our last siesta, lulled by the humming of bees among the 
flowers, and the notes of the ring doves from the neighboring 
olive trees. When the sultry hours were past, we resumed 
our journey, and after passing between hedges of aloes and 
Indian figs, and through a wilderness of gardens, arrived about 
sunset at the gates of Granada. 



GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 

To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and 
poetical, the Alhambra of Granada is as much an object of 
veneration as is the Caaba, or sacred house of Mecca, to all true 
Moslem pilgrims. How many legends and traditions, true and 
fabulous, how many songs and romances, Spanish and Arabian, 



20 THE ALHAMBBA. 

of love and war and chivalry, are associated with this romantic 
pile ! The reader may judge, therefore, of our delight, when, 
shortly after our arrival in Granada, the governor of Alhambra 
gave us permission to occupy his vacant apartments in the 
Moorish palace. My companion was soon summoned away by 
the duties of his station, but I remained for several months 
spell-bound in the old enchanted pile. The following papers 
are the result of 1113' reveries and researches, during that deli- 
cious thraldom. If they have the power of imparting any of 
the witching charms of the place to the imagination of the 
reader, he will not repine at lingering with me for a season in 
the legendary halls of the Alhambra. 

The Alhambra is an ancient fortress or castellated palace of 
the Moorish kings of Granada, where they held dominion over 
this their boasted terrestrial paradise, and -made their last 
stand for empire in Spain. The palace occupies but a portion 
of the fortress, the walls of which, studded with towers, stretch 
irregularly round the whole crest of a lofty hill that overlooks 
the city, and forms a spire of the Sierra Nevada, or Snowy 
Mountain. 

In the time of the Moors, the fortress was capable of contain- 
ing an army of forty thousand men within its precincts, and 
served occasionally as a stronghold of the sovereigns against 
their rebellious subjects. After the kingdom had passed into 
the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra continued a royal 
demesne, and was occasionally inhabited by the Castilian 
monarchs. The Emperor Charles V. began a sumptuous pal- 
ace within its walls, but was deterred from completing it by 
repeated shocks of earthquakes. The last royal residents ^ere 
Philip V. and his beautiful Queen Elizabetta, of Parma, early 
in the eighteenth century. 

Great preparations were made. for their reception. The 
palace and gardens were placed in a state of repair ; and a new 
suite of apartments erected, and decorated by artists brought 
from Italy. The sojourn of the sovereigns was transient ; and, 
after their departure, the palace once more became desolate. 
Still the place was maintained with some military state. The 
governor held it immediately from the crown : its jurisdiction 
extended down into the suburbs of the chVy, and was independ- 
ent of the captain general of Granada. A considerable garri- 
son was kept up ; the governor had its apartments in the old 
Moorish palace, and never descended into Granada without 
some military parade. The fortress, in fact, was a little town 



GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 21 

of itself, having several streets of houses within its walls, 
together with a Franciscan convent and a parochial church. 

The desertion of the court, however, was a fatal blow to the 
Alhambra. Its beautiful walls became desolate, and some of 
them fell to ruin ; the gardens were destroyed, and the foun- 
tains ceased to play. By degrees the dwellings became filled 
up with a loose and lawless population ; contrabandistas, who 
availed themselves of its independent jurisdiction, to carry on 
a wide and daring course of smuggling, and thieves and rogues 
of all sorts, who made this their place of refuge, from whence 
they might depredate upon Granada and its vicinity. The 
strong arm of government at length interposed. The whole 
community was thoroughly sifted ; none were suffered to remain 
but such as were of honest character and had legitimate right 
to a residence ; the greater part of the houses were demolished, 
and a mere hamlet left, with the parochial church and tho 
Franciscan convent. 

During the recent troubles in Spain, when Granada was ii» 
the hands of the French, the Alhambra was garrisoned by theii 
troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabited by the French 
commander. With that enlightened taste which has ever dis- 
tinguished the French nation in their conquests, this monument 
of Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued from the abso- 
lute ruin and desolation that were overwhelming it. The roofs 
were repaired, the saloons and galleries protected from the 
weather, the gardens cultivated, the water-courses restored, the 
fountains once more made to throw up their sparkling showers : 
and Spain may thank her invaders for having preserved to her 
the most beautiful and interesting of her historical monuments. 

On the departure of the French, they blew up several towers 
of the outer wall, and left the fortifications scarcely tenable. 
Since that time, the military importance of the post is at an 
end. The garrison is a handful of invalid soldiers, whose prin- 
cipal duty is to guard some of the outer towers, which serve, 
ocasionalry, as a prison of state : and the governor, abandon- 
ing the lofty hill of the Alhambra, resides in the centre of 
Granada, for the more convenient despatch of his official 
duties. I cannot conclude this brief notice of the state of the 
fortress, without bearing testimony to the honorable exertions 
of its present commander, Don Francisco de Salis Serna, who 
is tasking all the limited resources at his command, to put the 
palace in a state of repair ; and by his judicious precautions 
has for some time arrested its too certain decay. Had his 
predecessors discharged the duties of their station with equal 



22 THE ALHAMBRA. 

fidelity, the Alhambra might yet have remained in almost its 
pristine beauty ; were government to second him with means 
equal to his zeal, this edifice might still be preserved to adorn 
the land, and to attract the curious and enlightened of every 
clime, for many generations. 



V 



INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 

The Alhambra has been so often and so minutely described 
by travellers, that a mere sketch will probably be sufficient 
for the reader to refresh his recollection ; I will give, therefore, 
a brief account of our visit to it the morning after our arrival 
in Granada. 

Leaving our posada of La Espada, we traversed the renowned 
square of the Vivarrambla, once the scene of Moorish jousts 
and tournaments, now a crowded market-place. From thence 
we proceeded along the Zacatin, the main street of what was 
the great Bazaar, in the time of the Moors, where the small 
shops and narrow alleys still retain their Oriental character. 
Grossing an open place in front of the palace of the captain- 
general, we ascended a confined and winding street, the name 
of which reminded us of the chivalric days of Granada. It is 
called the Calle, or street, of the Gomeres : from a Moorish 
family, famous in chronicle and song. This street led up to a 
mansion gateway of Grecian architecture, built by Charles V., 
forming the entrance to the domains of the Alhambra. 

At the gate were two or three ragged and superannuated 
soldiers, dozing on a stone bench, the successors of the Zegris 
and the Abencerrages ; while a tall, meagre varlet, whose rusty 
brown cloak was, evidently, intended to conceal the ragged 
state of his nether garments, was lounging in the sunshine, and 
gossiping with an ancient sentinel, on dut} 7 . He joined us as 
we entered the gate, and offered his services to show us the 
fortress. 

I have a traveller's dislike to officious ciceroni, and did not 
altogether like the garb of the applicant : 

" You are well acquainted with the place, I presume? " 
" Ninguno mas — pues, senor, soy hijo de la Alhambra." 
(Nobody better — in fact, sir, I am a son of the Alhambra.) 
The common Spaniards have certainly a 'most poetical way of 
expressing themselves — "A son of the Alhambra : " the appel- > 



INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 23 

lation caught me at once ; the very tattered garb of my new 
acquaintance assumed a dignity in my eyes. It was emblematic 
of the features of the place, and became the progeny of a ruin. 

I put some further questions to him, and found his title was 
legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress from genera- 
tion to generation ever since the time of the conquest. His 
name was Mateo Ximenes. "Then, perhaps," said I, "you 
may be a descendant from the great Cardinal Ximenes." 

" Dios sabe ! (God knows) , senor. It may be so. We are the 
oldest family in the Alhambra. Viejos Cristianos (old Chris- 
tians) , without any taint of Moor or Jew. I know we belong to 
some great family or other, but I forget who. My father knows 
all about it. He has the coat of arms hanging up in his cottage, 
up in the fortress." — There is never a Spaniard, however poor, 
but has some claim to high pedigree. The first title of this 
ragged worthy, however, had completely captivated me, so I 
gladly accepted the services of the " son of the Alhambra." 

We now found ourselves in a deep narrow ravine, filled with 
beautiful groves, with a steep avenue and various foot-paths 
winding through it, bordered with stone seats and ornamented 
with fountains. To our left, we beheld the towers of the Al- 
hambra beetling above us ; to our right, on the opposite side of 
the ravine, we were equally dominated by rival towers on . a 
rocky eminence. These, we were told, were the Torres Ver- 
mejos, or Vermilion towers, so called from their ruddy hue. 
No one knows their origin. They are of a date much anterior 
to the Alhambra. Some suppose them to have been built by 
the Romans ; others, by some wandering colony of Phoenicians. 
Ascending the steep and shady avenue, we arrived at the foot 
of a huge square Moorish tower, forming a kind of barbican, 
through which passed the main entrance to the fortress. Within 
the barbican was another group of veteran invalids, one mount- 
ing guard at the portal, while the rest, wrapped in their tattered 
cloaks, slept on the stone benches. This portal is called the 
Gate of Justice, from the tribunal held within its porch during 
the Moslem domination, for the immediate trial of petty causes ; 
a custom .common to the Oriental nations, and occasionally 
alluded to in the sacred Scriptures. 

The great vestibule, or porch of the gate, is formed by an 
immense Arabian arch of the horseshoe form, which springs to 
half the height of the tower. On the ke3 T -stone of this arch is 
engraven a gigantic hand. Within the vestibule, on the key- 
stone of the portal, is engraven, in like manner, a gigantic key. 
Those who pretend to some knowledge of Mahometan symbols, 



24 THE ALHAMBBA. 

affirm, that the hand is the emblem of doctrine, and the key, of 
faith ; the hitter, they add, was emblazoned on the standard of 
the Moslems when the}' subdued Andalusia, in opposition to the 
Christian emblem of the cross. A different explanation, how- 
ever, was given by the legitimate u son of the Alhambra," and 
one more in unison with the notions of the common people, 
who attach something of mystery and magic to every thing 
Moorish, and have all kinds of superstitions connected with 
this old Moslem fortress. 

According to Mateo, it was a tradition handed down from 
the oldest inhabitants, and which he had from his father and 
grandfather, that the hand and key were magical devices on 
which the fate of the Alhambra depended. The Moorish king 
who built it was* a great magician, and, as some believed, had 
sold himself to the devil, and had laid the whole fortress under 
a magic spell. By this means it had remained standing for 
several hundred years, in defiance of storms and earthquakes, 
while almost all the other buildings of the Moors had fallen to 
ruin and disappeared. The spell, the tradition went on to say, 
would last until the hand on the outer arch should reach down 
and grasp the key, when the whole pile would tumble to pieces, 
and all the treasures buried beneath it by the Moors would be 
revealed. 

Notwithstanding this ominous prediction, we ventured to pass 
through the spell-bound gateway, feeling some little assurance 
against magic art in the protection of the Virgin, a statue of 
whom we observed above the portal. 

After passing through the Barbican, we ascended a narrow 
lane, winding between walls, and came on an open esplanade 
within the fortress, called the Plaza de los Algibes, or Place of 
the Cisterns, from great reservoirs which undermine it, cut in 
the living rock by the Moors, for the supply of the fortress. 
Here, also, is a well of immense depth, furnishing the purest 
and coldest of water, — another monument of the delicate taste 
of the Moors, who were indefatigable in their exertions to 
obtain that element in its crystal purity. 

In front of this esplanade is the splendid pile, commenced by 
Charles V., intended, it is said, to eclipse the residence of the 
Moslem kings. With all its grandeur and architectural merit, 
it appeared to us like an arrogant intrusion, and passing by it 
we entered a simple unostentatious portal, opening into the 
interior of the Moorish palace. 

The transition was almost magical ; it seemed as if we were 
at once transported into other times and another realm, and 



INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 25 

were treading the scenes of Arabian story. We found ourselves 
in a great court paved with white marble and decorated at each 
end with light Moorish peristyles. It is called the court of the 
Alberca. In the centre was an immense basin, or fish-pool, a 
hundred and thirty feet in length, by thirty in breadth, stocked 
with gold-fish, and bordered by hedges of roses. At the upper 
end of this court, rose the great tower of Comares. 

From the lower end, we passed through a Moorish arch-way 
into the renowned Court of Lions. There is no part of the 
edifice that gives us a more complete idea of its original beauty 
and magnificence than this ; for none has suffered so little from 
the ravages of time. In the centre stands the fountain famous 
in song and story. The alabaster basins still shed their diamond 
drops, and the twelve lions which support them, cast forth their 
crystal streams as in the da}-s of Boabdil. The court is laid 
out in flower beds, and surrounded by light Arabian arcades of 
open filigree work, supported by slender pillars of white marble. 
The architecture, like that of all the other parts of the palace, 
is characterized by elegance, rather than grandeur, bespeaking 
a delicate and graceful taste, and a disposition to indolent enjoy- 
ment. When we look upon the fairy tracery of the peristyles, 
and the apparently fragile fretwork of the walls, it is difficult 
to believe that so much has survived the wear and tear of cen- 
turies, the shocks of earthquakes, the violence of war, and the 
quiet, though no less baneful, pilferings of the tasteful traveller. 
It is almost sufficient to excuse the popular tradition, that the 
whole is protected by a magic charm. 

On one side of the court, a portal richly adorned opens into 
a lofty hall paved with white marble, and called the Hall of the 
two Sisters. A cupola or lantern admits a tempered light from 
above, and a free circulation of air. The lower part of the 
walls is incrusted with beautiful Moorish tiles, on some of which 
are emblazoned the escutcheons of the Moorish monarchs : the 
upper part is faced with the fine stucco work invented at Da- 
mascus, consisting of large plates cast in moulds and artfully 
joined, so as to have the appearance of having been laboriously 
sculptured by the hand into light relievos and fanciful ara- 
besques, intermingled with texts of the Koran, and poetical in- 
scriptions in Arabian and Celtic characters. These decorations 
of the walls and cupolas are richly gilded, and the interstices 
panelled with lapis lazuli and other brilliant and enduring colors. 
On each side of the wall are recesses for ottomans and arches. 
Above an inner porch, is a balcony which communicated with 
the women's apartment. The latticed balconies still remain. 



26 THE ALHAMBRA. 

from whence the dark-eyed beauties of the harem might gaze 
unseen upon the entertainments of the hall below. 

It is impossible to contemplate this once favorite abode of 
Oriental manners, without feeling the early associations of 
Arabian romance, and almost expecting to see the white arm 
of some mysterious princess beckoning from the balcony, or 
some dark eye sparkling through the lattice. The abode of 
beauty is here, as if it had been inhabited but yesterday — but 
where are the Zoraydas and Linderaxas ! , 

On the opposite side of the Court of Lions, is the hall of the 
Abencerrages, so called from the gallant cavaliers of that illus- 
trious line, who were here perfidiously massacred. There are 
some who doubt the whole truth of this story, but our humble 
attendant, Mateo, pointed out the very wicket of the portal 
through which they are said to have been introduced, one by 
one, and the white marble fountain in the centre of the hall, 
where the} T were beheaded. He showed us also certain broad 
ruddy staius in the pavement, traces of their blood, which, ac- 
cording to popular belief, can never be effaced. Finding we 
listened to him with easy faith, he added, that there was often 
heard at night, in the Court of the Lions, a low confused sound, 
resembling the murmurings of a multitude ; with now and then 
a faint tinkling, like the distant clank of chains. These noises 
are probably produced by the bubbling currents and tinkling 
falls of water, conducted under the pavement through pipes 
and channels to supply the fountains ; but according to the 
legend of the son of the Alhambra, they are made by the spirits 
of the murdered Abencerrages, which nightly haunt the scene of 
their suffering, and invoke the vengeance of Heaven on their 
destroyer. 

From the Court of Lions, we retraced our steps through the 
court of the Alberca, or great fish-pool, crossing which, we pro- 
ceeded to the tower of Comares, so called from the name of the 
Arabian architect. It is of massive strength, and lofty height, 
domineering over the rest of the edifice, and overhanging the 
steep hill-side, which descends abruptly to the banks of the 
Darro. A Moorish archway admitted us into a vast and lofty 
hall, which occupies the interior of the tower, and was the grand 
audience chamber of the Moslem monarchs, thence called the 
hall of Ambassadors. It still bears the traces of past magnifi- 
cence. The walls are richly stuccoed and decorated with ara- 
besques, the vaulted ceilings of cedar wood, almost lost in ob- 
scurity from its height, still gleam with rich gilding and the 
brilliant tints of the Arabian pencil. On three sides of the 



INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 27 

saloon are deep windows, cut through the immense thickness of 
the walls, the balconies of which look down upon the verdant 
valley of the Darro, the streets and convents of the Albaycin, 
and command a prospect of the distant Vega. I might go on 
to describe the other delightful apartments of this side of the 
palace ; the Tocador or toilet of the Queen, an open belvedere 
on the summit of the tower, where the Moorish sultanas enjoyed 
the pure breezes from the mountain and the prospect of the 
surrounding paradise. The secluded little patio or garden of 
Lindaraxa, with its alabaster fountain, its thickets of roses and 
myrtles, of citrons and oranges. The cool halls and grottos 
of the baths, where the glare and heat of day are tempered into 
a self-mysterious light and a pervading freshness. But I ap- 
pear to dwell minutely on these scenes. My object is merely 
to give the reader a general introduction into an abode, where, 
if disposed, he may linger and loiter with me through the re- 
mainder of this work, gradually becoming familiar with all its 
beauties. 

An abundant supply of water, brought from the mountains 
by old Moorish aqueducts, circulates throughout the palace, 
supplying its baths and fish-pools, sparkling in jets within its 
halls, or murmuring in channels along the marble pavements. 
When it has paid its tribute to the royal pile, and visited its 
gardens and pastures, it flows down the long avenue leading 
to the city, tinkling in rills, gushing in fountains, and main- 
taining a perpetual verdure in those groves that embower and 
beautify the whole hill of the Alhambra. 

Those, only, who have sojourned in the ardent climates of 
the South, can appreciate the delights of an abode combining 
the breezy coolness of the mountain with the freshness and 
verdure of the valley. 

While the city below pants with the noontide heat, and the 
parched Vega trembles to the eye, the delicate airs from the 
Sierra Nevada play through the lofty halls, bringing with them 
the sweetness of the surrounding gardens. Every thing invites 
to that indolent repose, the bliss of Southern climes ; and while 
the half-shut eye looks out from shaded balconies upon the 
glittering landscape, the ear is lulled by the rustling of groves, 
and the murmur of running streams. 



28 THE ALLIAMBRA. 



THE TOWER OF COMARES. 

The reader has had a sketch of the interior of the Alhambra, 
and may be desirous of a general idea of its vicinity. The 
morning is serene and lovely ; the sun has not gained sufficient 
power to destroy the freshness of the night ; we will mount to 
the summit of the tower of Comares, and take a bird's-eye view 
of Granada and its environs. 

Come, then, worthy reader and comrade, follow my steps into 
this vestibule ornamented with rich tracery, which opens to the 
hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the hall, however, but 
turn to the left, to this small door, opening in the wall. Have 
a care ! here are steep winding steps and but scanty light. 
Yet, up this narrow, obscure, and winding staircase, the proud 
monarchs of Granada and their queens have often ascended to 
the battlements of the tower to watch the approach of Christian 
armies ; or to gaze on the battles in the Vega. At length we 
are upon the terraced roof, and may take breath for a moment, 
while we cast a general eye over the splendid panorama of 
city and country, of rocky mountain, verdant valley and fertile 
plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish towers and Gothic domes, 
crumbling ruins and blooming groves. 

Let us approach the battlements and cast our eyes imme- 
diately below. See, — on this side we have the whole plan of 
the Alhambra laid open to us, and can look down into its courts 
and gardens. At the foot of the tower is the Court of the 
Alberca with its great tank or fish-pool bordered with flowers ; 
and yonder is the Court of Lions, with its famous fountain, and 
its light Moorish arcades ; and in the centre of the pile is the 
little garden of Lindaraxa, buried in the heart of the building, 
with its roses aud citrons and shrubbery of emerald green. 

That belt of battlements studded with square towers, strag- 
gling round the whole brow of the hill, is the outer boundary 
of the fortress. Some of the towers, you may perceive, are in 
ruins, and their massive fragments are buried among vines, fig- 
trees, and aloes. 

Let us look on this northern side of the tower. It is a giddy 
height ; the very foundations of the tower rise above the groves 
of the steep hill-side. And see, a long fissure in the massive 
walls shows that the tower has been rent by some of the earth- 
quakes, which from time to time have thrown Granada into 
consternation ; and which, sooner or later, must reduce this 



THE TO WEB OF COM ABES. 29 

crumbling pile to a mere mass of ruin. The deep narrow glen 
below us, which gradually widens as it opens from the moun- 
tains, is the valley of the Darro ; you see the little river wind- 
ing its way under embowered terraces, and among orchards and 
flower gardens. It is a stream famous in old times for yielding 
gold, and its sands are still sifted, occasionally, in search of 
the precious ore. 

Some of those white pavilions which here and there gleam 
from among groves and vineyards, were rustic retreats of the 
Moors, to enjo}' the refreshment of their gardens. 

The airy palace with its tall white towers and long arcades, 
which breast yon mountain, among pompous groves and hang- 
ing gardens, is the Generaliffe, a summer palace of the Moorish 
kings, to which they resorted during the sultry months, to 
enjoy a still more breezy region than that of the Alhambra. 
The naked summit of the height above it, where you behold 
some shapeless ruins, is the Silla del Moro, or seat of the 
Moor ; so called from having been a retreat of the unfortunate 
Boabdil, during the time of an insurrection, where he seated 
himself and looked down mournfully upon his rebellious city. 

A murmuring sound of water now and then rises from the 
valley. It is from the aqueduct of yon Moorish mill nearly at 
the foot of the hill. The avenue of trees beyond, is the Ala- 
meda along the bank of the Darro, a favorite resort in even- 
ings, and a rendezvous of lovers in the summer nights, when 
the guitar may be heard at a late hour from the benches along 
its walks. At present there are but a few loitering monks to 
be seen there, and a group of water carriers from the fountain 
of Avellanos. 

You start! 'Tis nothing but a hawk we have frightened 
from his nest. This old tower is a complete brooding-place for 
vagrant birds. The swallow and martlet abound in every chink 
and cranny, and circle about it the whole day long ; while at, 
night, when all other birds have gone to rest, the moping owl 
comes out of its lurking place, and utters its boding cry from 
the battlements. See how the hawk we have dislodged sweeps 
away below us, skimming over the tops of the trees, and sailing 
up to ruins above the Generaliffe. 

Let us leave this side of the tower and turn our eyes to the 
west. Here you behold in the distance a range of mountains 
bounding the Vega, the ancient barrier between Moslem Gra- 
nada and the land of the Christians. Among the heights you. 
may still discern warrior towns, whose gray walls and battle- 
ments seem of a piece with the rocks on which they are built ; 



30 THE ALI1AMBBA. 

while here and there is a solitary atala} T a or watch-tower, 
mounted on some lofty point, and looking down as if it were 
from the sky, into the valleys on either side. It was down the 
defiles of these mountains, by the pass of Lope, that the Chris- 
tian armies descended into the Vega. It was round the base 
of yon gray and naked mountain, almost insulated from the 
rest, and stretching its bald rocky promontory into the bosom 
of the plain, that the invading squadrons would come bursting 
into view, with flaunting banners and the clangor of drums 
and trumpets. How changed is the scene ! Instead of the 
glittering line of mailed warriors, we behold the patient train 
of the toilful muleteer, slowly moving along the skirts of the 
mountain. 

Behind that promontory, is the eventful bridge of Pinos, 
renowned for many a bloody strife between Moors and Chris- 
tians ; but still more renowned as being the place where Co- 
lumbus was overtaken and called back by the messenger of 
Queen Isabella, just as he was departing in despair to carry 
his project of discovery to the court of France. 

Behold another place famous in the history of the discoverer : 
yon line of walls and towers, /gleaming in the morning sun in 
the very centre of the Vega ; the city of Santa Fe, built by the 
Catholic sovereigns during the siege of Granada, after a con- 
flagration had destroyed their camp. It was to these walls 
that Columbus was called back by the heroic queen, and within 
them the treaty was concluded that led to the discovery of the 
Western World. 

Here, towards the south, the eye revels on the luxuriant 
beauties of the Vega ; a blooming wilderness of grove and gar- 
den, and teeming orchards ; with the Xenil winding through 
it in silver links and feeding innumerable rills, conducted 
through ancient Moorish channels, which maintain the land- 
scape in perpetual verdure. Here are the beloved bowers and 
gardens, and rural retreats for which the Moors fought with 
such desperate valor. The very farm-houses and hovels which 
are now inhabited by the boors, retain traces of arabesques 
and other tasteful decorations, which show them to have been 
elegant residences in the days of the Moslems. 

Beyond the embowered region of the Vega } t ou behold, to 
the south, a line of arid hills down which a long train of mules 
is slowly moving. It was from the summit of one of those 
hills that the unfortunate Boabdil cast back his last look upon 
Granada and gave vent to the agon} T of his soul. It is the spot 
famous in song and storv, u The last sigh of the Moor." 



REFLECTIONS. 31 

Now raise your eyes to the snowy summit of yon pile of 
mountains, shining like a white summer cloud on the blue sky. 
It is the Sierra Nevada, the pride and delight of Granada ; the 
source of her cooling breezes and perpetual verdure, of her 
gushing fountains and perennial streams. It is this glorious 
pile of mountains that gives to Granada that combination of 
delights so rare in a southern city. The fresh vegetation, and 
the -temperate airs of a northern climate, with the vivifying 
ardor of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern 
.sky. It is this aerial treasury of snow, which, melting in 
proportion to the increase of the summer heat, sends down 
rivulets and streams through every glen and gorge of the Al- 
puxarras, diffusing emerald verdure and fertility throughout a 
chain of happy and sequestered valle}^. 

These mountains may well be called the glory of Granada. 
They dominate the whole extent of Andalusia, and may be 
seen from its most distant parts. The muleteer hails them as 
he views their frosty peaks from the sultry level of the plain ; 
and the Spanish mariner on the deck of his bark, far, far off, 
on the bosom of the blue Mediterranean, watches them with a 
pensive eye, thinks of delightful Granada, and chants in low 
voice some old romance about the Moors. 

But enough, the sun is high above the mountains, and is 
pouring his full fervor upon our heads. Already the terraced 
roof of the town is hot beneath our feet ; let us abandon it, and 
descend and refresh ourselves under the arcades by the foun- 
tain of the Lions. 



REFLECTIONS 

ON THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SPAIN. 

One of my favorite resorts is the balcony of the central 
window of the Hall of Ambassadors, in the lofty tower of 
Comares. I have just been seated there, enjoying the close of 
a long brilliant da} T . The sun, as he sank behind the purple 
mountains of Alhama, sent a stream of effulgence up the 
valley of the Darro, that spread a melancholy pomp over the 
ruddy towers of the Alhambra, while the Vega, covered with 
a slight sultry vapor that caught the setting ray, seemed 
spread out in the distance like a golden sea. Not a breath of 
air disturbed the stillness of the hour, and though the faint 



32 THE ALU A Mllll A. 

sound of music and merriment now and then arose from the 
gardens of the Uarro, it but rendered more impressive the 
monumental silence of the pile which overshadowed me. It 
was one of those hours and scenes in which memory asserts an 
almost magical power, and, like the evening sun beaming on 
these mouldering towers, sends back her retrospective rays to 
light up the glories of the past. 

As I sat watching the effect of the declining daylight upon 
this Moorish pile, I was led into a consideration of the light, 
elegant, and voluptuous character prevalent throughout its 
internal architecture, and to contrast it with the grand but 
gloomy solemnity of the Gothic edifices, reared by the Spanish 
conquerors. The very architecture thus bespeaks the opposite 
and irreconcilable natures of the two warlike people, who so 
long battled here for the mastery of the Peninsula. By de- 
grees I fell into a course of musing upon the singular features 
of the Arabian or Morisco Spaniards, whose whole existence is 
as a tale that is told, and certainly forms one of the most 
anomalous yet splendid episodes in history. Potent and dura- 
ble as was their dominion, we have no one distinct title by 
which to designate them. They were a nation, as it were, 
without a legitimate country or a name. A remote wave of 
the great Arabian inundation, cast upon the shores of Europe, 
they seemed to have all the impetus of the first rush of the 
torrent. Their course of conquest from the rock of Gibraltar 
to the cliffs of the Pyrenees, was as rapid and brilliant as the 
Moslem victories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not 
been checked on the plains of Tours, all France, all Europe, 
might have been overrun with the same facility as the empires 
of the east, and the crescent might at this day have glittered 
on the fanes of Paris and of London. 

Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes 
of Asia and Africa that formed this great irruption, gave up 
the Moslem principles of conquest, and sought to establish in 
Spain a peaceful and permanent dominion. As conquerors 
their heroism was only equalled by their moderation ; and in 
both, for a time, they excelled the nations with whom they 
contended. Severed from their native homes, they loved the 
land given them, as they supposed, by Allah, and strove to 
embellish it with every thing that could administer to the 
happiness of man. Laying the foundations of their power in 
a system of wise and equitable laws, diligently cultivating the 
arts and sciences, and promoting agriculture, manufactures, 
and commerce, they gradually formed an empire unrivalled 



REFLECTIONS. W6 

for its prosperity, by any of the empires of Christendom ; and 
diligentl}' drawing round them the graces and refinements that 
marked the Arabian empire in the east at the time of its great- 
est civilization, they diffused the light of Oriental knowledge 
through the western regions of benighted Europe. 

The cities of Arabian Spain became the resort of Christian 
artisans, to instruct themselves in the useful arts. The uni- 
versities of Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada were sought 
by the pale student from other lands, to acquaint himself with 
the sciences of the Arabs, and the treasured lore of antiquity ; 
the lovers of the gay sciences resorted to Cordova and Gra- 
nada, to imbibe the poetry and music of the east ; and the 
steel-clad warriors of the north hastened thither, to accomplish 
themselves in the graceful exercises and courteous usages of 
chivalry. 

If the Moslem monuments in Spain ; if the Mosque of Cor- 
dova, the Alcazar of Seville and the Alhambra of Granada, 
still bear inscriptions fondly boasting of the power and per- 
manency of their dominion, can the boast be derided as arro- 
gant and vain? Generation after generation, ceutuiy after 
century, had passed away, and still they maintained possession 
of the land. A period had elapsed longer than that which has 
passed since England was subjugated by the Norman con- 
queror ; and the descendants of Musa and Tarik might as little 
anticipate being driven into exile, across the same straits trav- 
ersed by their triumphant ancestors, as the descendants of 
Rollo and William and their victorious peers may dream of be- 
ing driven back to the shores of Normandy. 

With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but 
a brilliant exotic that took no permanent root in the soil it 
embellished. Severed from all their neighbors of the west by 
impassable barriers of faith and manners, and separated by 
seas and deserts from their kindred of the east, they were an 
isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged though 
gallant and chivalric struggle for a foot- hold in a usurped land. 
They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The pen- 
insula was the great battle ground where the Gothic con- 
querors of the north and the Moslem conquerors of the east, 
met and strove for mastery ; and the fiery courage of the Arab 
was at length subdued by the obstinate and persevering valor 
of the Goth. 

Never was the annihilation of a people more complete than 
that of the Morisco Spaniards. Where are they? Ask the 
shores of Barbary and its desert places. The exiled remnant 



34 THE ALI1AMBRA. 

of their once powerful empire disappeared among the bar- 
barians of Africa, and ceased to be a nation. They have not 
even left a distinct name behind them, though for nearly eight 
centuries they were a distinct people. The home of their 
adoption and of their occupation for ages refuses to acknowl- 
edge them but as invaders and usurpers. A few broken monu- 
ments are all that remain to bear witness to the power and 
dominion, as solitary rocks left far in the interior bear testi- 
mony to the extent of some vast inundation. Such is the 
Alhambra. A Moslem pile in the midst of a Christian laud ; 
an Oriental palace amidst the Gothic edifices of the west ; an 
elegant memento of a brave, intelligent, and graceful people, 
who conquered, ruled, and passed away. 



THE HOUSEHOLD. 



It is time that I give some idea of my domestic arrangements 
in this singular residence. The royal palace of the Alhambra 
is intrusted to the care of a good old maiden dame called Doha 
Antonia Molina, but who, according to Spanish custom, goes 
b\' the more neighborly appellation of Tia Antonia (Aunt An- 
tonia) . She maintains the Moorish halls and gardens in order, 
and shows them to strangers ; in consideration of which, she is 
allowed all the perquisites received from visitors and all the 
produce of the gardens, excepting that she is expected to pay 
an occasional tribute of fruits and flowers to the governor. 
Her residence is in a corner of the palace, and her family con- 
sists of a nephew and niece, the children of two different broth- 
ers. The nephew, Manuel Molina, is a young man of sterling 
worth and Spanish gravity. He has served in the armies both 
in Spain and the West Indies, but is now studying medicine 
in hopes of one day or other becoming physician to the for- 
tress, a post worth at least a hundred and forty dollars a year. 
As to the niece, she is a plump little black-eyed Andalusian 
damsel named Dolores, but who from her bright looks and 
cheerful disposition merits a merrier name. She is the declared 
heiress of all her aunt's possessions, consisting of certain ruin- 
ous tenements in the fortress, yielding a revenue of about one 
hundred and fifty dollars. 1 had not been long in the Alhambra 
before I discovered that a quiet courtship was going on between 
the discreet Manuel and his bright-eyed cousin, and that 



THE HOUSEHOLD. 35 

nothing was wanting to enable them to join their hands and 
expectations, but that he should receive his doctor's diploma, 
and purchase a dispensation from the pope, on account of their 
consanguinity. 

With the good dame Antonia I have made a treaty, accord- 
ing to which, she furnishes me with board and lodging, while 
the merry-hearted little Dolores keeps my apartment in order 
and officiates as handmaid at meal times. I have also at my 
command a tall, stuttering, yellow-haired lad named Pepe, who 
works in the garden, and would fain have acted as valet, but 
in this he was forestalled by Mateo Ximenes, " The son of the 
Alhambra." This alert and officious wight has managed, 
somehow or other, to stick by me, ever since 1 first encountered 
him at the outer gate of the fortress, and to weave himself into 
all my plans, until he has fairly appointed and installed himself 
my valet, cicerone, guide, guard, and historio-graphic squire ; 
and I have been obliged to improve the state of his wardrobe, 
that he may not disgrace his various functions, so that he has 
cast off his old brown mantle, as a snake does his skin, and 
now figures about the fortress with a smart Andalusian hat and 
jacket, to his infinite satisfaction and the great astonishment 
of his comrades. The chief fault of honest Mateo is an over- 
anxiety to be useful. Conscious of having foisted himself into 
my employ, and that my simple and quiet habits render his 
situation a sinecure, he is at his wit's end to devise modes of 
making himself important to my welfare. I am in a manner 
the victim of his officiousness ; I cannot put my foot over the 
threshold of the palace to stroll about the fortress, but he is 
at my elbow to explain every thing I see, and if I venture to 
ramble among the surrounding hills, he insists upon attending 
me as a guard, though I vehemently suspect he would be more 
apt to trust to the length of his legs than the strength of his 
arms in case of attack. After all, however, the poor fellow is 
at times an amusing companion ; he is simple-minded and of 
infinite good humor, with the loquacity and gossip of a village 
barber, and knows all the small talk of the place and its envi- 
rons ; but what he chiefly values himself on is his stock of local 
information, having the most marvellous stories to relate of 
every tower, and vault and gateway of the fortress, in all of 
which he places the most implicit faith. 

Most of these he has derived, according to his own account, 
from his grandfather, a little legendary tailor, who lived to the 
age of nearly a hundred years, during which he made but two 
migrations beyond the precincts of the fortress. His shop, for 



36 THE ALHAMQRA. 

the greater part of a century, was the resort of a knot of vener- 
able gossips, where the} 7 would pass half the night talking about 
old times and the wonderful events and hidden secrets of the 
place. The whole living, moving, thinking, and acting of this 
little historical tailor, had thus been bounded by the walls of 
the Alhambra ; within them he had been born, within them he 
lived, breathed, and had his being, within them he died and 
was buried. Fortunately for posterity his traditionary lore 
died not with him. The authentic Mateo, when an urchin, 
used to be an attentive listener to the narratives of his grand- 
father and of the gossip group assembled round the shop board, 
and is thus possessed of a stock of valuable knowledge concern- 
ing the Alhambra, not to be found in the books, and well worthy 
the attention of every curious traveller. 

Such are the personages that contribute to my domestic 
comforts in the Alhambra, and I question whether an}* of the 
potentates, Moslem or Christian, who have preceded me in the 
palace, have been waited upon with greater fidelity or enjoyed 
a serener sway. 

When I rise in the morning, Pepe, the stuttering lad, from 
the gardens, brings me a tribute of fresh culled flowers, which 
are afterwards arranged in vases by the skilful hand of Dolores, 
who takes no small pride in the decorations of my chamber. 
My meals are made wherever caprice dictates, sometimes in 
one of the Moorish halls, sometimes under the arcades of the 
Court of Lions, surrounded by flowers and fountains ; and 
when I walk out I am conducted by the assiduous Mateo to the 
most romantic retreats of the mountains and delicious haunts 
of the adjacent valleys, not one of which but is the scene of 
some wonderful tale. 

Though fond of passing the greater part of my day alone, yet 
I occasionally repair in the evenings to the little domestic circle 
of Dona Antonia. This is generally held in an old Moorish 
chamber, that serves for kitchen as well as hall, a rude fireplace 
having been made in one corner, the smoke from which has 
discolored the walls and almost obliterated the ancient ara- 
besques. A window with a balcony overhanging the balcony 
of the Darro, lets in the cool evening breeze, and here I take 
my frugal supper of fruit and milk, and mingle with the con- 
versation of the family. There is a natural talent, or mother 
wit, as it is called, about the Spaniards, whieh renders them 
intellectual and agreeable companions, whatever ma} 7 be their 
condition in life, or however imperfect may have been their 
education ; add to this, they are never vulgar ; nature lias en- 



THE TRUANT. 37 

(lowed them with an inherent dignity of spirit. The good Tia 
Antonia is a woman of strong and intelligent, though unculti- 
vated mind, and the bright-eyed Dolores, though she has read 
but three or four books in the whole course of her life, has an 
engaging mixture of naivete and good sense, and often sur- 
prises me by the pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes 
the nephew entertains us by reading some old comedy of Cal- 
deron or Lope de Vega, to which he is evidently prompted by 
a desire to improve as well as amuse his cousin Dolores, though 
to his great mortification the little damsel generally falls asleep 
before the first act is completed. Sometimes Tia Antonia has 
a little bevy of humble friends and dependants, the inhabitants 
of the adjacent hamlet, or the wives of the invalid soldiers. 
These look up to her with great deference as the custodian of 
the palace, and pay their court to her by bringing the news 
of the place, or the rumors that may have straggled up from 
Granada. In listening to the evening gossipings, I have picked 
up many curious facts, illustrative of the manners of the people 
and the peculiarities of the neighborhood. 

These are simple details of simple pleasures ; it is the nature 
of the place alone that gives them interest and importance. I 
tread haunted ground and am surrounded by romantic asso- 
ciations. From earliest bojiiood, when, on the banks of the 
Hudson, I first pored over the pages of an old Spanish story 
about the wars of Granada, that city has ever been a subject 
of my waking dreams, and often have I trod in fancy the 
romantic halls of the Alhambra. Behold for once a day-dream 
realized ; yet I can scarcely credit my senses or believe that I 
do indeed inhabit the palace of Boabdil, and look down from 
its balconies upon chivalric Granada. As I loiter through the 
Oriental chambers, and hear the murmuring of fountains and 
the song of the nightingale : as I inhale the odor of the rose 
and feel the influence of the balmy climate, I am almost 
tempted to fancy myself in the Paradise of Mahomet, and that 
the plump little Dolores is one of the bright-eyed Houris, des- 
tined to administer to the happiness of true believers. 



THE TRUANT. 



Since writing the foregoing pages, we have had a scene of 
petty tribulation in the Alhambra which has thrown a cloud 
over the sunny countenance of Dolores. This little damsel has 



88 THE ALHAMBRA. 

a female passion for pets of all kinds, from the superabundant 
kindness of her disposition. One of the ruined courts of the 
Alhambra is thronged with her favorites. A stately peacock 
and his hen seem to hold regal sway here, over pompous tur- 
keys, querulous guinea fowls, and a rabble rout of common 
cocks and hens. The great delight of Dolores, however, has 
for some time past been centred in a youthful pair of pigeons, 
who have lately entered into the holy state of wedlock, and 
who have even supplanted a tortoise-shell cat and kitten in her 
affections. 

As a tenement for them to commence housekeeping she had 
fitted up a small chamber adjacent to the kitchen, the window 
of which looked into one of the quiet Moorish courts. Here 
they lived in happy ignorance of any world beyond the court 
and its sunny roofs. In vain they aspired to soar above the 
battlements, or to mount to the summit of the towers. Their 
virtuous union was at length crowned by two spotless and milk 
white eggs, to the great joy of their cherishing little mistress. 
Nothing could be more praiseworthy than the conduct of the 
young married folks on this interesting occasion. They took 
turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were hatched, and while 
their callow progeny required warmth and shelter. While one 
thus staid at home, the other foraged abroad for food, and 
brought home abundant supplies. 

This scene of conjugal felicity has suddenly met with a re- 
verse. Early this morning, as Dolores was feeding the male 
pigeon, she took a fancy to give him a peep at the great world. 
Opening a window, therefore, which looks down upon the val- 
ley of the Darro, she launched him at once beyond the walls 
of the Alhambra. For the first time in his life the astonished 
bird had to try the full vigor of his wings. He swept down 
into the valley, and then rising upwards with a surge, soared 
almost to the clouds. Never before had he risen to such a 
height or experienced such delight in flying, and like a young 
spendthrift, just come to his estate, he seemed giddy with ex- 
cess of liberty, and with the boundless field of action suddenly 
opened to him. For the whole day he has been circling about 
in capricious flights, from tower to tower and from tree to tree. 
Every attempt has been made in vain to lure him back, by scat- 
tering grain upon the roofs ; he seems to have lost all thought 
of home, of his tender helpmate and his callow young. To add 
to the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined by two palomas 
ladrones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it is to entice wan- 
dering pigeons to their own dove-cotes. The fugitive, like 



THE TRUANT. 39 

many other thoughtless youths on their first launching upon 
the world, seems quite fascinated with these knowing, but grace- 
less, companions, who have undertaken to show him life and 
introduce him to society. He has been soaring with them over 
all the roofs and steeples of Granada. A thunder shower has 
passed over the city, but he has not sought his home ; night 
has closed in, and still he comes not. To deepen the pathos of 
the affair, the female pigeon, after remaining several hours on 
the nest without being relieved, at length went forth to seek her 
recreant mate ; but stayed away so long that the young ones 
perished for want of the warmth and shelter of the parent 
bosom . 

At a late hour in the evening, word was brought to Dolores 
that the truant bird had been seen upon the towers of the Gen- 
eraliffe. Now, it so happens that the Aclministrador of that 
ancient palace has likewise a dove-cote, among the inmates of 
which are said to be two or three of these invei°lino- birds, the 
terror of all neighboring pigeon fanciers. Dolores immediately 
concluded that the two feathered sharpers who had been seen 
with her fugitive, were these bloods of the Generaliffe. A 
council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia An- 
tonia. The Generaliffe is a distinct jurisdiction from the 
Alhambra, and of course some punctilio, if not jealous} 7 , exists 
between their custodians. It was determined, therefore, to 
send Pepe, the stuttering lad of the gardens, as ambassador to 
the Administrador, requesting that if such fugitive should be 
found in his dominions, he might be given up as a subject of the 
Alhambra. Pepe departed, accordingly, on his diplomatic ex- 
pedition, through the moonlit groves and avenues, but returned 
in an hour with the afrlictiug intelligence that no such bird was 
to be found in the dove-cote of the Generaliffe. The Aclminis- 
trador, however, pledged his sovereign word, that if such va- 
grant should appear there, even at midnight, he should instantly 
be arrested and sent back prisoner to his little black-e} 7 ed mis- 
tress. 

Thus stands this melanchol} 7 affair, which has occasioned 
much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the inconsol- 
able Dolores to a sleepless pillow. 

" Sorrow endureth for a night," sa} 7 s the proverb, " but joy 
ariseth in the morning." The first object that met m}' eyes on 
leaving my room this morning w 7 as Dolores with the truant 
pigeon in her hand, and her eyes sparkling with joy. He had 
appeared at an early hour on the battlements, hovering shyly 
about from roof to roof, but at length entered the window and 



40 THE ALHAMBRA. 

surrendered himself prisoner. He gained little credit, how- 
ever, by his return, for the ravenous manner in which he de- 
voured the food set before him, showed that, like the prodigal 
son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores up- 
braided him for his faithless conduct, calling him all manner of 
vagrant names, though woman-like, she fondled him at the 
same time to her bosom and covered him with kisses. I ob- 
served, however, that she had taken care to clip his wings to 
prevent all future soarings ; a precaution which I mention for 
the benefit of all those who have truant wives or wandering 
husbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn from 
the story of Dolores and her pigeon. 



THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER. 

On taking up my abode in the Alhambra, one end of a suite of 
empty chambers of modern architecture, intended for the resi- 
dence of the governor, was fitted up for my reception. It was 
in front of the palace, looking forth upon the esplanade. The 
farther end communicated with a cluster of little chambers, 
partly Moorish, partly modern, inhabited by Tia Antonia and 
her family. These terminated in a large room which serves the 
good old dame for parlor, kitchen, and hall of audience. It 
had boasted of some splendor in the time of the Moors, but a 
fireplace had been built in one corner, the smoke from which 
had discolored the walls, nearly obliterated the ornaments, and 
spread a sombre tint over the whole. From these gloomy 
apartments, a narrow blind corridor and a dark winding stair- 
case led down an angle of the tower of Comares ; groping 
down which, and opening a small door at the bottom, you are 
suddenly dazzled by emerging into the brilliant antechamber 
of the hall of ambassadors, with the fountain of the court of the 
Alberca sparkling before you. 

I was dissatisfied with being lodged in a modern and frontier 
apartment of the palace, and longed to ensconce myself in the 
very heart of the building. 

As I was rambling one day about the Moorish halls, I found, 
in a remote gallery, a door which I had not before noticed, 
communicating apparently with an extensive apartment, locked 
up from the public. Here then was a mystery. Here was the 
haunted wing of the castle. I procured the key, however, 



THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER. 41 

without difficulty. The door opened to a range of vacant cham- 
bers of European architecture ; though built over a Moorish 
arcade, along the little garden of Lindaraxa. There were two 
lofty rooms, the ceilings of which were of deep panel-work of 
cedar, richly and skilfully carved with fruits and flowers, inter- 
mingled with grotesque masks or faces ; but broken in many 
places. The walls had evidently, in ancient times, been hung 
with damask, but were now naked, and scrawled over with the 
insignificant names of aspiring travellers ; the windows, which 
were dismantled and open to wind and weather, looked into 
the garden of Lindaraxa, and the orange and citron trees flung 
their branches into the chambers. Beyond these rooms were 
two saloons, less lofty, looking also into the garden. In the 
compartments of the panelled ceiling were baskets of fruit and 
garlands of flowers, painted b} T no mean hand, and in tolerable 
preservation. The walls had also been painted in fresco in the 
Italian st\ T le, but the paintings were nearly obliterated. The win- 
dows were in the same shattered state as in the other chambers. 
This fanciful suite of rooms terminated in an open gallery 
with balustrades, which ran at right angles along another side 
of the garden. The whole apartment had a delicacy and ele- 
gance in its decorations, and there was something so choice and 
sequestered in its situation, along this retired little garden, that 
awakened an interest in its history. I found, on inquiry, that 
it was an apartment fitted up by Italian artists, in the early 
part of the last century, at the time when Philip V. and the 
beautiful Elizabetta of Parma were expected at the Alhambra ; 
and was destined for the queen and the ladies of her train. 
One of the loftiest chambers had been her sleeping room, and a 
narrow staircase leading from it, though now walled up, opened 
to the delightful belvedere, originally a mirador of the Moorish 
sultanas, but fitted up as a boudoir for the fair Elizabetta, and 
which still retains the name of the Tocador, or toilet of the 
queen. The sleeping room I have mentioned, commanded from 
one window a prospect of the Generaliffe, and its embowered 
terraces ; under another window played the alabaster fountain 
of the garden of Lindaraxa. That garden carried my thoughts 
still farther back, to the period of another reign of beauty ; 
to the days of the Moorish sultanas. w4 How beauteous is this 
garden ! " sa3 7 s an Arabic inscription, " where the flowers of the 
earth vie with the stars of heaven ! what can compare with the 
vase or yon alabaster fountain filled with crystal water? Noth- 
ing but the moon in her fulness, shining in the midst of an un 
clouded sky ! " 



*i 



42 THE ALHAMBRA. 

Centuries had elapsed, yet how much of this scene of appar- 
ently fragile beauty remained ! The garden of Lindaraxa was 
still adorned with flowers ; the fountain still presented its 
crystal mirror : it is true, the alabaster had lost its whiteness, 
and the basin beneath, overrun with weeds, had become the 
nestling place of the lizard ; but there was something in the 
very decay that enhanced the interest of the scene, speaking, 
as it did, of that mutability which is the irrevocable lot of man 
and all his works. The desolation, too, of these chambers, once 
the abode of the proud and elegant Elizabetta, had a more 
touching charm for me than if I had beheld them in their pris- 
tine splendor, glittering with the pageantry of a court — I de- 
termined at once to take up my quarters in this apartment. 

My determination excited great surprise in the family ; who 
could not imagine any rational inducement for the choice of 
so solitary, remote, and forlorn an apartment. The good Tia 
Antonia considered it highly dangerous. The neighborhood, 
she said, was infested by vagrants ; the caverns of the adjacent 
hills swarmed with gypsies ; the palace was ruinous and easy 
to be entered in many parts ; and the rumor of a stranger 
quartered alone in one of the ruined apartments, out of the 
hearing of the rest of the inhabitants, might tempt unwelcome 
visitors in the night, especially as foreigners are always sup- 
posed to be well stocked with money. Dolores represented the 
frightful loneliness of the place ; nothing but bats and owls 
flitting about ; then there were a fox and a wild cat that kept 
about the vaults and roamed about at night. 

I was not to be diverted from my humor, so calling in the as- 
sistance of a carpenter, and the ever officious Mateo Ximenes, 
the doors and windows were soon placed in a state of tolerable 
security. 

With all these precautions, I must confess the first night I 
passed in these quarters was inexpressibly drear}*. J was 
escorted by the whole family to my chamber, and there taking 
leave of me, and retiring along the waste antechamber and 
echoing galleries, reminded me of those hobgoblin stories, 
where the hero is left to accomplish the adventure of a 
haunted house. 

Soon the thoughts of the fair Elizabetta and the beauties of 
her court, who had once graced these chambers, now by a per- 
version of fancy added to the gloom. Here was the scene of 
their transient gayety and loveliness ; here were the very traces 
of their elegance and enjoyment ; but what and where were 
they ? — Dust and ashes ! tenants of the tomb ! phantoms of the 
memory ! 



THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER. 43 

A vague and indescribable awe was creeping over me. I 
would fain have ascribed it to the thoughts of robbers, awakened 
by the evening's conversation, but I felt that it was something 
more unusual and absurd. In a word, the long buried impres- 
sions of the nursery were reviving and asserting their power 
over my imagination. Every thing began to be affected by 
the workings of my mind. The whispering of the wind among 
the citron trees beneath my window had something sinister. I 
cast my eyes into the garden of Lindaraxa ; the groves presented 
a gulf of shadows ; the thickets had indistinct and ghastly 
shapes. I was glad to close the window ; but my chamber it- 
self became infected. A bat had found its way in, and flitted 
about nry head and athwart my solitaiy lamp ; the grotesque 
faces carved in the cedar ceiling seemed to mope and mow at 
me. 

Rousing myself, and half smiling at this temporary weak- 
ness, I resolved to brave it, and, taking lamp in hand, sallied 
forth to make a tour of the ancient palace. Notwithstanding 
every mental exertion, the task was a severe one. The rays 
of my lamp extended to but a limited distance around me ; I 
walked as it were in a mere halo of light, and all beyond 
was thick darkness. The vaulted corridors were as caverns ; 
the vaults of the halls were lost in gloom ; what unseen foe 
might not be lurking before or behind me ; my own shadow 
playing about the walls, and the echoes of my own footsteps 
disturbed me. 

In this excited state, as I was traversing the great Hall of 
Ambassadors, there were added real sounds to these conjectural 
fancies. Low moans and indistinct ejaculations seemed to rise 
as it were from beneath my feet ; I paused and listened. They 
then appeared to resound from without the tower. Sometimes 
they resembled the bowlings of an animal, at others they were 
stilled shrieks, mingled with articulate ravings. The thrilling 
effect of those sounds in that still hour and singular place, de- 
stroyed all inclination to continue my lonely perambulation. 
I returned to my chamber with more alacrity than I had sallied 
forth, and drew my breath more freely when once more within 
its walls, and the door bolted behind me. 

When I awoke in the morning, with the sun shining in at my 
window, and lighting up every part of the building with its 
cheerful and truth-telling beams, I could scarcely recall the 
shadows and fancies conjured up by the gloom of the preceding 
night ; or believe that the scenes around me, so naked and 
apparent, could have been clothed with such imaginaiy horrors. 



44 THE ALHAMBBA. 

Still the dismal bowlings and ejaculations I had heard were 
not ideal ; but they were soon accounted for, by my handmaid 
Dolores ; being the ravings of a poor maniac, a brother of her 
aunt, who was subject to violent paroxysms, during which he 
was confined in a vaulted* room beneath the Hall of Ambas- 
sadors. 



THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT. 

I have given a picture of my apartment on m} T first taking 
possession of it ; a few evenings have produced a thorough 
change in the scene and in my feelings. The moon, which 
then was invisible, has gradually gained upon the nights, and 
now rolls in full splendor above the towers, pouring a flood of 
tempered light into every court and hall. The garden beneath 
my window is gently lighted up ; the orange and citron trees 
are tipped with silver ; the fountain sparkles in the moonbeams, 
and even the blush of the rose is faintly visible. 

J have sat for hours at ury window inhaling the sweetness of 
the garden, and musing on the checkered features of those 
whose history is dimly shadowed out in the elegant memorials 
around. Sometimes I have issued forth at midnight when 
every thing was quiet, and have wandered over the whole 
building. Who can do justice to a moonlight night in such 
a climate, and in such a place ! The temperature of an Anda- 
lusian midnight, in summer, is perfectly ethereal. We seem 
lifted up into a purer atmosphere ; there is a serenity of soul, 
a buoyancy of spirits, an elasticity of frame, that render mera 
existence enjoj^ment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the 
Alhambra has something like enchantment. Every rent and 
chasm of time, every mouldering tint and weather stain dis- 
appears ; the marble resumes its original whiteness ; the long 
colonnades brighten in the moonbeams ; the halls are illumi- 
nated with a softened radiance, until the whole edifice reminds 
one of the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale. 

At such time I have ascended to the little pavilion, called 
the Queen's Toilet, to enjoy its varied and extensive pros- 
pect. To the right, the snowy summits of the Sierra Nevada 
would gleam like silver clouds against the darker firmament, and 
all the outlines of the mountain would be softened, yet deli- 
cately defined. My delight, however, would be to lean over 
the parapet of the tocador, and gaze down upon Granada. 



INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. 45 

spread out like a map below me : all buried in deep repose, 
and its white palaces and convents sleeping as it were in the 
moonshine. 

Sometimes I would hear the faint sounds of castanets from 
some party of dancers lingering in the Alameda ; at other times 
I have heard the dubious tones of a guitar, and the notes of a 
single voice rising from some solitary street, and have pictured 
to myself some youthful cavalier serenading his lady's window ; 
a gallant custom of former days, but now sadly on the decline 
except in the remote towns and villages of Spain. 

Such are the scenes that have detained me for many an hour 
loitering about the courts and balconies of the castle, ending 
that mixture of reverie and sensation which steal away exist- 
ence in a southern climate — and it has been almost morning 
before I have retired to my bed, and been lulled to sleep by the 
falling waters of the fountain of Lindaraxa. 



INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. 

I have often observed that the more proudly a mansion has 
been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its 
inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the palace of the 
king commonly ends in being the nestling place of the beggar. 

The Alhambra is in a rapid state of similar transition : when- 
ever a tower falls to decay, it is seized upon by some tatter- 
demalion family, who become joint tenants with the bats and 
owls of its gilded halls, and hang their rags, those standards 
of poverty, out of its windows and loop-holes. 

I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley 
characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of royalty, 
and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical termination 
to the drama of human pride. One of these even bears the 
mockery of a royal title. It is a little old woman named Maria 
Antonia Sabonea, but who goes by the appellation of la Reyna 
Cuquina, or the cockle queen. She is small enough to be a 
fairy, and a fairy she may be for aught I can find out, for no 
one seems to know her origin. Her habitation is a kind of 
closet under the outer staircase of the palace, and she sits in 
the cool stone corridor plying her needle and singing from 
morning till night, with a ready joke for every one that passes, 
for though one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little 



46 THE ALT1AMBRA. 

women breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story-telling ; 
having, I verily believe, as man}' stories at her command as 
the inexhaustible Scheherezade of the Thousand and One Nights. 
Some of these I have heard her relate in the evening tertulias 
of Dona Antonia, at which she is occasionally an humble at- 
tendant. 

That there must be some fairy gift about this mysterious 
little old woman, would appear from her extraordinaiy luck, 
since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugh', and very 
poor, she has had, according to her own account, five husbands 
and a half ; reckoning as a half, one, a young dragoon, who died 
during courtship. 

A rival personage to this little fairy queen is a portly old 
fellow with a bottle nose, who goes about in a rusty garb, with 
a cocked hat of oil skin and a red cockade. He is one of the 
legitimate sons of the Alhambra, and has lived here all his life, 
filling various offices ; such as Deputy Alguazil, sexton of the 
parochial church, and marker of a fives court established at the 
foot of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, but as proud 
as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the illustrious 
house of Aguilar, from which sprang Gonsalvo of Cordova, the 
Grand Captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of Alonzo 
de Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the conquest, though 
the graceless wags of the fortress have given him the title of 
el Padre Santo, or the Holy Father, the usual appellation of the 
pope, which I had thought too sacred in the eyes of true Catho- 
lics to be thus ludicrously applied. It is a whimsical caprice 
of fortune, to present in the grotesque person of this tatter- 
demalion a namesake and descendant of the proud Alonzo de 
Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost 
mendicant existence about this once haughty fortress, which his 
ancestor aided to reduce ; }-et such might have been the lot of 
the descendants of Agamemnon and Achilles, had they lingered 
about the ruins of Troy. 

Of this motley community I find the family of my gossiping 
squire Mateo Ximenes to form, from their numbers at least, a 
very important part. His boast of being a son of the Alham- 
bra is not unfounded. This family has inhabited the fortress 
ever since the time of the conquest, handing down a hereditary 
poverty from father to son, not one of them having ever been 
known to be worth a marevedi. His father, by trade a ribbon 
weaver, and who succeeded the historical tailor as the head of 
the family, is now near seventy 3 T ears of age, and lives in a 
hovel of reeds and plaster, built by his own hands, just above? 



INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. 47 

the iron gate. The furniture consists of a crazy bed, a table, 
and two or three chairs ; a wooden chest, containing his clothes, 
and the archives of his family ; that is to say, a few papers con- 
cerning old law-suits which he cannot read ; but the pride of 
his heart is a blazon of the arms of the family, brilliantly 
colored and suspended in a frame against the wall, clearly 
demonstrating by its quarterings the various noble houses with 
which this povert3 T -stricken brood claim affinity. 

As to Mateo himself, he has done his utmost to perpetuate 
his line ; having a wife, and a numerous progeny who inhabit 
an almost dismantled hovel in the hamlet. How they manage 
to subsist, He only who sees into all mysteries can tell — the 
subsistence of a Spanish family of the kind is always a riddle 
to me ; yet they do subsist, and, what is more, appear to enjo}' 
their existence. The wife takes her holiday stroll in the Paseo 
of Granada, with a child in her arms, and half a dozen at her 
heels, and the eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, 
dresses her hair with flowers, and dances gayly to the castanets. 

There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long 
holiday, the very rich and the very poor ; one because they 
need do nothing, the other because they have nothing to do ; 
but there are none who understand the art of doing nothing 
and living upon nothing better than the poor classes of Spain. 
Climate does one half and temperament the rest. Give a Span- 
iard the shade in summer, and the sun in winter, a little bread, 
garlic, oil and garbanzos, an old brown cloak and a guitar, and 
let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty, with him 
it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a grandioso style, 
like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo even when in rags. 

The "Sons of the Alhambra " are an eminent illustration 
of this practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that the 
celestial paradise hung over this favored spot, so I am inclined, 
at times, to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still lingers 
about this ragged community. They possess nothing, they do 
nothing, they care for nothing. Yet, though apparently idle 
all the week, they are as observant of all holidays and saints' 
days as the most laborious artisan. They attend all fetes and 
dancings in Granada and its vicinity, light bonfires on the hills 
on St. John's eve, and have lately danced away the moonlight 
nights, on the harvest home of a small field of wheat within the 
precincts of the fortress. 

Before concluding these remarks I must mention one of the 
amusements of the place which has particularly struck me. I 
had repeatedly observed a long, lean fellow perched on the top 



48 THE ALHAMBTtA. 

of one of the towers manoeuvring two or three fishing rods, as 
though he was angling for the stars. I was for some time 
perplexed by the evolutions of this aerial fisherman, and my 
perplexity increased on observing others employed in like man- 
ner, on different parts of the battlements and bastions ; it was 
not until I consulted Mateo Ximenes that I solved the mystery. 
It seems that the pure and airy situation of this fortress has 
rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place 
for swallows and martlets, who sport about its towers in 
myriads, with the holydaj 7 glee of urchins just let loose from 
school. To entrap these birds in their giddy circlings, with 
hooks baited with flies, is one of the favorite amusements of 
the ragged " Sons of the Alhambra," who, with the good-for- 
nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented the art 
of angling in the sky. 



THE BALCONY. 



In the Hall of Ambassadors, at the central window, there is 
a balcony of which I have already made mention. It projects 
like a cage from the face of the tower, high in mid-air, above 
the tops of the trees that grow on the steep hill-side. It an- 
swers me as a kind of observatory, where I often take my seat 
to consider, not merely the heavens above, but the Si earth 
beneath." Beside the magnificent prospect which it commands, 
of mountain, valley, and Vega, there is a busy little scene of 
human life laid open to inspection immediately below. At the 
foot of the hill is an alameda or public walk, which, though not 
so fashionable as the more modern and splendid paseo of the 
Xenil, still boasts a varied and picturesque concourse, especially 
on holydays and Sundays. Hither resort the small gentry of 
the suburbs, together with priests and friars who walk for appe- 
tite and digestion ; majos and majas, the beaux and belles of 
the lower classes in their Andalusian dresses ; swagging contra- 
bandistas, and sometimes half-muffled and mysterious loungers 
of the higher ranks, on some silent assignation. 

It is a moving picture of Spanish life which I delight to 
study ; and as the naturalist has his microscope to assist him 
in his curious investigations, so I have a small pocket telescope 
which brings the countenances of the motley groups so close as 
almost at times to make me think I can divine their conversa- 
tion by the play and expression of their features. I am thus, 



THE BALCONY. 49 

in a manner, an invisible observer, and without quitting my 
solitude, can throw myself in an instant into the midst of 
society — a rare advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet 
habits. 

Then there is a considerable suburb lying below the Alham- 
bra, filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending up 
the opposite hill of the Albaycin. Many of the houses are 
built in the Moorish style, round patios or courts cooled by 
fountains and open to the sky ; and as the inhabitants pass 
much of their time in these courts and on the terraced roofs 
during the summer season, it follows that many a glance at 
their domestic life may be obtained by an atrial spectator like 
m} T self, who can look down on them from the clouds. 

I enjoy, in some degree, the advantages of the student in the 
famous old Spanish story, who beheld all Madrid unroofed for 
his inspection ; and my gossiping squire Mateo Ximenes offi- 
ciates occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of 
the different mansions and their inhabitants. 

I prefer, however, to form conjectural histories for m} T self ; 
and thus can sit up aloft for hours, weaving from casual inci- 
dents and indications that pass under m} r eye, the whole tissue 
of schemes, intrigues, and occupations, carrying on by^certain 
of the busy mortals below us. There is scarce a pretty face or 
striking figure that I daily see, about which I have not thus 
gradually framed a dramatic story ; though some of my 
characters will occasionally act in direct opposition to the part 
assigned them, and disconcert my whole drama. 

A few days since as I was reconnoitring with ni} T glass the 
streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the procession of a novice 
about to take the veil ; and remarked various circumstances 
that excited the strongest sympathy in the fate of the youth- 
ful being thus about to be consigned to a living tomb. I ascer- 
tained, to my satisfaction, that she was beautiful ; and, by the 
paleness of her cheek, that she was a victim, rather than a 
votary. She was arrayed in bridal garments, and decked with 
a chaplet of white flowers ; but her heart evidently revolted 
at this mockery of a spiritual union, and }'earned after its 
earthly loves. A tall stern-looking man walked near her in 
the procession ; it was evidently the tyrannical father, who, 
from some bigoted or sordid motive, had compelled this sacrifice. 
Amidst the crowd was a dark, handsome youth, in Andalusian 
garb, who seemed to fix on her an e}'e of agony. It was 
doubtless the secret lover from whom she w T as forever to be 
separated. My indignation rose as I noted the malignant exul- 



50 THE ALIIAMBEA. 

tation painted in the countenances of the attendant monks and 
friars. The procession arrived at the chapel of the convent ; the 
sun gleamed for the last time upon the chaplet of the poor novice 
as she crossed the fatal threshold and disappeared from sight. 
The throng poured in with cowl and cross and minstrelsy. The 
lover paused for a moment at the door ; I could understand 
the tumult of his feelings, but he mastered them and entered. 
There was a long interval — I pictured to myself the scene pass- 
ing within. — The poor novice despoiled of her transient finery 

— clothed in the conventual garb ; the bridal chaplet taken 
from her brow ; her beautiful head shorn of its long silken 
tresses — I heard her murmur the irrevocable vow — I saw her 
extended on her bier ; the death pall spread over ; the funeral 
service performed that proclaimed her dead to the world ; her 
sighs were drowned in the wailing anthem of the nuns and the 
sepulchral tones of the organ — the father looked, unmoved, 
without a tear — the lover — no — my fancy refused to portray 
the anguish of the lover — there the picture remained a blank. 

— The ceremony was over: the crowd again issued forth to 
behold the day and mingle in the joyous stir of life — but the 
victim with her bridal chaplet was no longer there — the door 
of the convent closed that secured her from the world forever. 
I saw the father and the lover issue forth — they were in ear- 
nest conversation — the young man was violent in his gestures, 
when the wall of a house intervened and shut them from my 
sight. 

That evening I noticed a solitary light twinkling from a re- 
mote lattice of the convent. There, said I, the unhappy novice 
sits weeping in her cell, while her lover paces the street below 
in unavailing anguish. 

— The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations and de- 
stroyed, in an instant, the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With 
his usual zeal he had gathered facts concerning the scene that 
had interested me. The heroine of my romance was neither 
young nor handsome — she had no lover — she had entered the 
convent of her own free will, as a respectable asylum, and was 
one of the cheerfulest residents within its walls ! 

I felt at first half vexed with the nun for being thus happy 
in her cell, in contradiction to all the rules of romance ; but 
diverted my spleen by watching, for a day or two, the pretty 
coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a 
balcony shrouded with flowering shrubs and a silken awning, 
was carrying on a mysterious correspondence with a hand- 
some, dark, well-whiskered cavalier in the street beneath hei 



/ 



THE BALCONY. 51 

window. Sometimes I saw him at an early hour, stealing forth, 
wrapped to the eyes in a mantle. Sometimes he loitered at the 
corner, in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private 
signal to slip into the bower. Then there was a tinkling of 
a guitar at night, and a lantern shifted from place to place in 
the balcony. I imagined another romantic intrigue like that of 
Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all 1113^ suppositions by 
being informed that the supposed lover was the husband of 
the lady, and a noted contrabandista, and that all his mysteri- 
ous signs and movements had doubtless some smuggling scheme 
in view. 

Scarce had the gray dawn screaked the sky and the earliest 
cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side, when the 
suburbs gave sign of reviving animation ; for the fresh hours 
of dawning are precious in the summer season in a sultry 
climate. All are anxious to get the start of the sun in the 
business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded 
train for the journey ; the traveller slings his carbine behind 
his saddle and mounts his steed at the gate of the hostel. The 
brown peasant urges his loitering donkeys, laden with panniers 
of sunny fruit and fresh dewy vegetables ; for already the 
thrifty housewives are hastening to the market. 

The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, topping the 
transparent foliage of the groves. The matin bells resound 
melodiously through the pure bright air, announcing the hour 
of devotion. The muleteer halts his burdened animals before 
the chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt behind, and enters 
with hat in hand, smoothing his coal black hair, to hear a 
mass and put up a prayer for a prosperous wayfaring across the 
Sierra. 

And now steals forth with fairy foot the gentle Seiiora, in 
trim busquina ; with restless fan in hand and dark eye flashing 
from beneath her gracefully folded mantilla. She seeks some 
well frequented church to offer up her orisons ; but the nicely 
adjusted dress; the dainty shoe and cobweb stocking; the 
raven tresses scrupulously braided, the fresh plucked rose that 
gleams among them like a gem, show that earth divides with 
heaven the empire of her thoughts. 

As the morning advances, the din of labor augments on every 
side ; the streets are thronged with man and steed, and beast of 
burden ; the universal movement produces a hum and murmur 
like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his merid- 
ian the hum and bustle gradually decline ; at the height of noon 
there is a pause ; the panting city sinks into lassitude, and for 



52 THE ALHAMBBA. 

several hours there is a general repose. The windows are 
closed, the curtains drawn ; the inhabitants retire into the 
coolest recesses of their mansions. The full-fed monk snores 
in his dormitory. The brawny porter lies stretched on the 
pavement beside his burden. The peasant and the laborer 
sleep beneath the trees of the Alameda, lulled by the sultry 
chirping of the locust. The streets are deserted except by the 
water carrier, who refreshes the ear b\ r proclaiming the merits 
)f his sparkling beverage, — ww Colder than mountain snow." 

As the sun declines, there is again a gradual reviving, and 
when the vesper bell rings out his sinking knell, all nature 
seems to rejoice that the t\*rant cf the day has fallen. 

Now begins the bustle of enjoyment. The citizens pour 
forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief 
twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and the Xenil. 

As the night closes, the motley scene assumes new features. 
Light after light gradually twinkles forth ; here a taper from 
a balconied window ; there a votive lamp before the image of a 
saint. Thus by degrees the city emerges from the pervading 
gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights like the starry firma- 
ment. Now break forth from court, and garden, and street, 
and lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars and the clicking 
of castanets, blending at this lofty height, in a faint and gen- 
eral concert. "Enjoy the moment," is the creed of the gay 
and amorous Andalusian, and at no time does he practise it 
more zealously than in the balmy nights of summer, wooing his 
mistress with the dance, the love ditty, and the passionate 
serenade. 

I was seated one evening in the balcony enjoying the light 
breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill among the 
tree-tops, when my humble historiographer, Mateo, who was at 
my elbow, pointed out a spacious house in an obscure street of 
the Albaycin, about which he related, as nearly as I can recollect, 
the following anecdote. 



THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON. 

There was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer, in 
Granada, who kept all the saints' days and holydays, and saint 
Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all his devotion, he 
grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his 
numerous family. One night he was roused from his first sleep 



THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON. 53 

by a knocking at his door. He opened it and beheld before 
him a tall, meagre, cadaverons-looking priest. " Hark ye, hon- 
est friend," said the stranger, " I have observed that you are a 
good Christian, and one to be trusted ; will you undertake a job 
this very night ? ' ' 

"With all my heart, Senor Padre, on condition that I am 
paid accordingly." 

" That you shall be, but you must suffer yourself to be 
blindfolded." 

To this the mason made no objection ; so being hoodwinked, 
he was led by the priest through various rough lanes and wind- 
ing passages until they stopped before the portal of a house. 
The priest then applied a key, turned a creaking lock, and 
opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They entered, 
the door was closed and bolted, and the mason was conducted 
through an echoing corridor and spacious hall, to an interior 
part of the building. Here the bandage was removed from his 
eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or court, dimly lighted 
by a single lamp. 

In the centre was a dry basin of an old Moorish fountain, 
under which the priest requested him to form a small vault, 
bricks and mortar being at hand for the purpose. He accord- 
ingly worked all night, but without finishing the job. Just 
before daj-break the priest put a piece of gold into his hand, 
and having again blindfolded him, conducted him back to his 
dwelling. 

"Are you willing," said he, "to return and complete } T our 
work?" 

" Gladly, Senor Padre, provided I am as well paid." 

" Well, then, to-morrow at midnight I will call again." 

He did so, and the vault was completed. " Now," said the 
priest, " you must help me to bring forth the bodies that are to 
be buried in this vault." 

The poor mason's hair rose on his head at these words ; he 
followed the priest with trembling steps, into a retired chamber 
of the mansion, expecting to behold some ghastly spectacle 
of death, but was relieved, on perceiving three or four portly 
jars standing in one corner. They were evidently full of 
mone}', and it was with great labor that he and the priest 
carried them forth and consigned them to their tomb. The 
vault was then closed, the pavement replaced, and all traces of 
the work obliterated. 

The mason was again hoodwinked and led forth by a route 
different from that by which he had come. After they had 



54 THE ALBAMBRA. 

wandered for a long time through a perplexed maze of lanes 
and alleys, they halted. The priest then put two pieces of gold 
into his hand. "Wait here," said he, "until 3*011 hear the 
cathedral bell toll for matins. If you presume to uncover 
your eyes before that time, evil will befall you." So saying 
he departed. 

The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing 
the gold pieces in his hand and clinking thern against each 
other. The moment the cathedral bell rung its matin peal, he 
uncovered his e}'es and found himself on the banks of the 
Xenil ; from whence he made the best of his way home, and 
revelled with his family for a whole fortnight on the profits of 
his two nights' work, after which he was as poor as ever. 

He continued to work a little and pray a good deal, and keep 
holidays and saints' days from year to year, while his family 
grew up as a gaunt and ragged as a crew of gypsies. 

As he was seated one morning at the door of his hovel, he 
was accosted b} 7 a rich old curmudgeon who was noted for 
owning many houses and being a griping landlord. 

The man of mone} 7 eyed him for a moment, from beneath a 
pair of shagged eyebrows. 

" I am told, friend, that you are very poor." 

" There is no denying the fact, Seiior ; it speaks for itself." 

"I presume, then, you will be glad of a job, and will work 
cheap." 

" As cheap, my master, as any mason in Granada." 

" That's what I want. I have an old house fallen to decay, 
that costs me more mone} 7 than it is worth to keep it in repair, 
for nobody will live in it ; so I must contrive to patch it up and 
keep it together at as small expense as possible." 

The mason was accordingly conducted to a huge deserted 
house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through several 
empty halls and chambers, he entered an inner court, where 
his e} T e was caught by an old Moorish fountain. 

He paused for a moment. " It seems," said he, " as if I had 
been in this place before ; but it is like a dream. — Pray who 
occupied this house formerl} 7 ? " 

"A pest upon him! " cried the landlord. "It was an ©Id 
miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself. He was 
said to be immensely rich, and, having no relations, it was 
thought he would leave all his treasure to the church. He died 
suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to take possession 
of his wealth, but nothing could they find but a few clucats in a 
leathern purse. The worst luck has fallen on me ; for since his 



A BAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 55 

death, the old fellow continues to occupy my house without 
paying rent, and there's no taking the law of a dead man. The 
people pretend to hear at night the clinking of gold all night 
long in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were 
counting over his mone} T , and sometimes a groaning and 
moaning about the court. Whether true or false these stories 
have brought a bad name on my house, and not a tenant will 
remain in it." 

•' Enough," said the mason sturdily — " Let me live in your 
house rent free until some better tenant presents, and I will 
engage to put it in repair and quiet the troubled spirits that 
disturb it. I am a good Christian and a poor man, and am not 
to be daunted by the devil himself, even though he come in the 
shape of a big bag of money." 

The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted ; he 
moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his en- 
gagements. B} T little and little he restored it to its former 
state. The clinking of gold was no longer heard at night in 
the chamber of the defunct priest, but began to be heard bj 7 
day in the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he increased 
rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of all his neighbors, and 
became one of the richest men in Granada. He gave large 
sums to the church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying his con- 
science, and never revealed the secret of his wealth until on his 
deathbed, to his son and heir. 



A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 

I frequently amuse nryself towards the close of the day, 
when the heat has subsided, with taking long rambles about 
the neighboring hills and the deep umbrageous valleys, accom- 
panied b} T my historiographer Squire Mateo, to whose passion 
for gossiping, I, on such occasions, give the most unbounding 
license ; and there is scarce a rock or ruin, or broken fountain, 
or lonely glen, about which he has not some marvellous stoiy ; 
or, above all, some golden legend ; for never was poor devil so 
munificent in dispensing hidden treasures. 

A few evenings since we took a long stroll of the kind, in 
which Mateo was more than usually communicative. It was 
towards sunset that we sallied forth from the great Gate of 
Justice, and ascending an alley of trees, Mateo paused under a 



56 THE ALU AM BRA. 

clump of fig and pomegranate trees at the foot of a huge ruined 
tower, called the Tower of the Seven Vaults, (de los siete 
suelos.) Here, pointing to a low archway at the foundation of 
the tower, he informed me, in an undertone, was the lurking- 
place of a monstrous sprite or hobgoblin called the Belludo, 
which had infested the tower ever since the time of the Moors ; 
guarding, it is supposed, the treasures of a Moorish king. 
Sometimes it issues forth in the dead of the night, and scours 
the avenues of the Alhambra and the streets of Granada in 
the shape of a headless horse, pursued by six dogs with terrific 
yells and bowlings. 

" But have you ever met with it yourself, Mateo, in any of 
your rambles? " 

"No, seiior; but my grandfather, the tailor, knew several 
persons who had seen it ; for it went about much more in his 
time than at present : sometimes in one shape, sometimes in 
another. Everybody in Granada has heard of the Belludo, 
for the old women and nurses frighten the children with it 
when they cry. Some say it is the spirit of a cruel Moorish 
king, who killed his six sons, and buried them in these vaults, 
and that they hunt him at nights in revenge." . 

Mateo went on to tell many particulars about this redoubt- 
able hobgoblin, which has, in fact, been time out of mind a 
favorite theme of nursery tale and popular tradition in Gra- 
nada, and is mentioned in some of the antiquated guide-books. 
When he had finished, we passed on, skirting the fruitful 
orchards of the Generaliffe ; among the trees of which two or 
three nightingales were pouring forth a rich strain of melody. 
Behind these orchards we passed a number of Moorish tanks, 
with a door cut into the rocky bosom of the hill, but closed up. 
These tanks Mateo informed me were favorite bathing-places 
of himself and his comrades in bo3 T hood, until frightened away 
by a stoiy of a hideous Moor, who used to issue forth from the 
door in the rock to entrap unwary bathers. 

Leaving these haunted tanks behind us, we pursued our 
ramble up a solitary mule-path that wound among the hills, 
and soon found ourselves amidst wild and melancholy moun- 
tains, destitute of trees, and here and there tinted with scanty 
verdure. Every thing within sight was severe and sterile, and 
it was scarcely possible to realize the idea that but a short dis- 
tance behind us was the Generaliffe, with its blooming orchards 
and terraced gardens, and that we were in the vicinity of deli- 
cious Granada, that city of groves and fountains. But such is 
the nature of Spain — wild and stern the moment it escapes 



A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLF. 57 

from cultivation, the desert and the garden are ever side by 
side. 

The narrow defile up which we were passing is called, 
according to Mateo, el Barranco de la Tinaja, or the ravine of 
the jar. 

u And why so, Mateo? " inquired I. 

"Because, senor, a jar full of Moorish gold was found here 
in old times." The brain of poor Mateo is continually run- 
ning upon these golden legends. 

" But what is the meaning of the cross I see yonder upon a 
heap of stones in that narrow part of the ravine? " 

" Oh ! that's nothing — a muleteer was murdered there some 
3'ears since." 

" So then, Mateo, you have robbers and murderers even at 
the gates of the Alhambra." 

"Not at present, senor — that was formerly, when there 
used to be many loose fellows about the fortress ; but they've 
all been weeded out. Not but that the gypsies, who live in 
caves in the hillsides just out of the fortress, are, many of 
them, fit for any thing ; but we have had no murder about 
here for a long time past. The man who murdered the mule- 
teer was hanged in the fortress." 

Our path continued up the barranco, with a bold, rugged 
height to our left, called the Silla del Moro, or chair of the 
Moor ; from a tradition that the unfortunate Boabdil fled thither 
during a popular insurrection, and remained all day seated on the 
rocky summit, looking mournfully down upon his factious city. 

We at length arrived on the highest part of the promontory 
above Granada, called the Mountain of the Sun. The evening 
was approaching ; the setting sun just gilded the loftiest heights. 
Here and there a solitary shepherd might be descried driving 
his flock down the declivities to be folded for the night, or a 
muleteer and his lagging animals threading some mountain path, 
to arrive at the city gates before nightfall. 

Presently the deep tones of the cathedral bell came swelling 
up the defiles, proclaiming the hour of Oracion, or prayer. The 
note was responded to from the belfry of every church, and 
from the sweet bells of the convents among the mountains. The 
shepherd paused on the fold of the hill, the muleteer in the 
midst of the road ; each took off his hat, and remained motion- 
less for a time, murmuring his evening pra} T er. There is always 
something solemn and pleasing in this custom ; by which, at a 
melodious signal, every human being throughout the land, 
recites, at the same moment, a tribute of thanks to God for the 



58 THE ALHAMBRA. 

mercies of the clay. It diffuses a transient sanctity over the 
land, and the sight of the sun sinking in all his glory, adds not 
a little to the solemnity of the scene. In the present instance, 
the effect was heightened by the wild and lonely nature of the 
place. We were on the naked and broken summit of the haunted 
Mountain of the Sun, where ruined tanks and cisterns, and the 
mouldering foundations of extensive buildings, spoke of former 
populousness, but where all was now silent and desolate. 

As we were wandering among these traces of old times, 
Mateo pointed out to me a circular pit, that seemed to penetrate 
deep into the bosom of the mountain. It was evidently a deep 
well, dug by the indefatigable Moors, to obtain their favorite 
element in its greatest purity. Mateo, however, had a different 
story, and much more to his humor. This was, according to 
tradition, an entrance to the subterranean caverns of the moun- 
tain, in which Boabdil and his court lay bound in magic spell ; 
and from whence they sallied forth at night, at allotted times, 
to revisit their ancient abodes. 

The deepening twilight, which in this climate is of such short 
duration, admonished us to leave this haunted ground. As we 
descended the mountain defiles, there was no longer herdsman 
or muleteer to be seen, nor any thing to be heard but our own 
footsteps and the lonely chirping of the cricket. The shadows 
of the valleys grew deeper and deeper, until all was dark 
around us. The lofty summit of the Sierra Nevada alone re- 
tained lingering gleam of daylight, its snowy peaks glaring 
against the dark blue firmament ; and seeming close to us, from 
the extreme purity of the atmosphere. 

" How near the Sierra looks this evening ! " said Mateo, " it 
seems as if you could touch it with your hand, and yet it is 
man}' long leagues off." While he was speaking a star appeared 
over the snow}' summit of the mountain, the only one }-et visible 
in the heavens, and so pure, so large, so bright and beautiful 
as to call forth ejaculations of delight from honest Mateo. 

" Que lucero hermoso ! — que claro y limpio es ! — no pueda 
ser lucero mas brillante ! " — 

(What a beautiful star ! how clear and lucid ! — no star could 
be more brilliant ! ) 

I have often remarked this sensibility of the common people 
of Spain to the charms of natural objects. The lustre of a star 
— the beauty or fragrance of a flower — the crystal purity of 
a fountain, will inspire them with a kind of poetical delight — 
and then what euphonious words their magnificent language 
affords, with which to give utterance to their transports ! 



A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 59 

"But what lights. are those, Mateo, which I see twinkling 
along the Sierra Nevada, just below the snowy region, and 
which might be taken for stars, only that they are ruddy and 
against the dark side of the mountain ? " 

"Those, Senor, are fires made by the men who gather snow 
and ice for the supply of Granada. They go up every after- 
noon with mules and asses, and take turns, some to rest and 
warm themselves by the fires, while others fill their panniers 
with ice. They then set off down the mountain, so as to reach 
the gates of Granada before sunrise. That Sierra Nevada. 
Senor, is a lump of ice in the middle of Andalusia, to keep it 
all cool in summer." 

It was now completely dark ; we were passing through the 
barranco where stood the cross of the murdered muleteer, when 
I beheld a number of lights moving at a distance and apparently 
advancing up the ravine. On nearer approach they proved to 
be torches borne by a train of uncouth figures arrayed in black ; 
it would have been a procession dreary enough at any time, but 
was peculiarly so in this wild and solitary place. 

Mateo drew near, and told me in a low voice that it was a 
funeral train bearing a corpse to the burying ground among the 
hills. 

As the procession passed by, the lugubrious light of the 
torches, falling on the rugged features and funereal weeds of 
the attendants, had the most fantastic effect, but was perfectly 
ghastly as it revealed the countenance of the corpse, which, 
according to Spanish custom, was borne uncovered on an open 
bier. I remained for some time gazing after the dreary train 
as it wound up the dark defile of the mountain. It put me in 
mind of the old story of a procession of demons, bearing the 
body of a sinner up the crater of Stromboli. 

"Ah, Senor," cried Mateo, "I could tell you a stoiw of a 
procession once seen among these mountains — but then you 
would laugh at me, and say it was one of the legacies of my 
grandfather the tailor." 

8 * By no means, Mateo. There is nothing I relish more than 
a marvellous tale." 

"Well, Senor, it is about one of those very men we have 
been talking of, who gather snow on the Sierra Nevada. You 
must know that a great man} 7 years since, in my grandfather's 
time, there was an old fellow, Tio Nicolo by name, who had 
filled the panniers of his mules with snow and ice, and was 
returning down the mountain. Being very drows}% he mounted 
upon the mule, and, soon falling asleep, went with his head nod- 



60 THE ATAIAMBBA. 

ding and bobbing about from side to side, while his sure-footed 
old mule stepped along the edge of precipices, and down steep 
and broken barrancos just as safe and steady as if it had been 
on plain ground. At length Tio Nicolo awoke, and gazed about 
him, and rubbed his eyes — and in good truth he had reason — 
the moon shone almost as bright as day, and he saw the city 
below him, as plain as your hand, and shining with its white 
buildings like a silver platter in the moonshine ; but lord ! 
Senor ! — it was nothing like the city he left a few hours before. 
Instead of the cathedral with its great dome and turrets, and 
the churches with their spires, and the convents with their 
pinnacles all surmounted with the blessed cross, he saw nothing 
but Moorish mosques, and minarets, and cupolas, all topped off 
with glittering crescents, such as you see on the Barbary flags. 
Well, Sehor, as you may suppose, Tio Nicolo was mightily puz- 
zled at all this, but while he was gazing down upon the city, a 
great army came marching up the mountain ; winding along the 
ravines, sometimes in the moonshine, sometimes in the shade. 
As it drew nigh, he saw that there were horse and foot, all in 
Moorish armor. Tio Nicolo tried to scramble out of their way, 
but his old mule stood stock still and refused to budge, trem- 
bling at the same time like a leaf — for dumb beasts, Senor, are 
just as much frightened at such things as human beings. Well, 
Senor, the hobgoblin army came marching by ; there were men 
that seemed to blow trumpets, and others to beat drums and 
strike cymbals, yet never a sound did they make ; they all 
moved on without the least noise, just as I have seen painted 
armies move across the stage in the theatre of Granada, and 
all looked as pale as death. At last in the rear of the army, 
between two black Moorish horsemen, rode the grand inquisitor 
of Granada, on a mule as white as snow. Tio Nicolo wondered 
to see him in such company ; for the inquisitor was famous for 
his hatred of Moors, and indeed of all kinds of infidels, Jews, 
and heretics, and used to hunt them out with fire and scourge 
■ — however, Tio Nicolo felt himself safe, now that there was a 
priest of such sanctity at hand. So, making the sign of the 
cross, he called out for his benediction, when — hombre ! he 
received a blow that sent him and his old mule over the edge of 
a steep bank, down which they rolled, head over heels, to the 
bottom. Tio Nicolo did not come to his senses until long after 
sunrise, when he found himself at the bottom of a deep ravine, 
his mule grazing beside him, and his panniers of snow com- 
pletely melted. He crawled back to Granada sorely bruised 
and battered, and was glad to find the city looking as usual, 



THE COURT OF LIONS. 61 

with Christian churches and crosses. When he told the story 
of his night's adventure, every one laughed at him : some said 
he had dreamt it all, as he dozed on his mule, others thought 
it all a fabrication of his own. But what was strange, Senor, 
and made people afterwards think more seriously of the matter, 
was, that the grand inquisitor died within the year. I have 
often heard my grandfather, the tailor, say that there was more 
meant by that hobgoblin army bearing off the resemblance of 
the priest, than folks dared to surmise." 

"Then you would insinuate, friend Mateo, that there is a 
kind of Moorish limbo, or purgatory, in the bowels of these 
mountains ; to which the padre inquisitor was borne off." 

"God forbid — Sehor — I know nothing of the matter — I 
only relate what I heard from my grandfather." 

By the time Mateo had finished the tale which I have more 
succinctly related, and which was interlarded with many com- 
ments, and spun out with minute details, we reached the gate 
of the Alhambra. 



THE COURT OF LIONS. 

The peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace, is its power 
of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and 
thus clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory 
and the imagination. As I delight to walk in these " vain 
shadows," I am prone to seek those parts of the Alhambra 
which are most favorable to this phantasmagoria of the mind ; 
and none are more so than the Court of Lions and its surround- 
ing halls. Here the hand of time has fallen the lightest, and 
the traces of Moorish elegance and splendor exist in almost 
their original brilliancy. Earthquakes have shaken the founda- 
tions of this pile, and rent its rudest towers, yet see — not one 
of those slender columns has been displaced, not an arch of 
that light and fragile colonnade has given way, and all the fairy 
fretwork of these domes, apparently as unsubstantial as the 
crystal fabrics of a morning's frost, yet exist after the lapse of 
centuries, almost as fresh as if from the hand of the Moslem 
artist. 

I write in the midst of these mementos of the past, in the 
fresh hour of early morning, in the fated hall of the Abencer- 
rages. The blood-stained fountain, the legendary monument 
of their massacre, is before me ; the lofty jet almost casts its 



62 THE ALHAMBBA. 

dew upon my paper. How difficult to reconcile the ancient tale 
of violence and blood, with the gentle and peaceful scene 
around. Every thing here appears calculated to inspire kind 
and happy feelings, for eveiy thing is delicate and beautiful. 
The very light falls tenderly from above, through the lantern 
of a dome tinted and wrought as if by fairy hands. Through . 
the ample and fretted arch of the portal, I behold the Court of 
Lions, with brilliant sunshine gleaming along its colonnades 
and sparkling in its fountains. The lively swallow dives into 
the court, and then surging upwards, darts away twittering over 
the roof ; the busy bee toils humming among the flower-beds, 
and painted butterflies hover from plant to plant, and flutter 
up, and sport with each other in the sunny air. — It needs but 
a slight exertion of the fancy to picture some pensive beauty of 
the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of Oriental luxury. 

He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect 
more in unison with its fortunes, let him come when the shad- 
ows of evening temper the brightness of the court, and throw a 
gloom into the surrounding halls, — then nothing can be more 
serenely melancholy, or more in harmony with the tale of de- 
parted grandeur. # 

At such times I am apt to seek ,the Hall of Justice, whose 
deep shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the 
court. • Here were performed, in presence of Ferdinand and 
Isabella, and their triumphant court, the pompous ceremonies 
of high mass, on taking possession of the Alhambra. The very 
cross is still to be seen upon the wall, where the altar was 
erected, and where officiated the grand cardinal of Spain, and 
others of the highest religious dignitaries of the land. 

I picture to myself the scene when this place was filled with 
the conquering host, that mixture of mitred prelate, and shorn 
monk, and steel-clad knight, and silken courtier : when crosses 
and croziers and religious standards were mingled with proud 
armorial ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of 
•Spain, and flaunted in triumph through these Moslem halls. I 
picture to myself Columbus, the future discoverer of a world, 
taking his modest stand in a remote corner, the humble and 
neglected spectator of the pageant. I see in imagination the 
Catholic sovereigns prostrating themselves before the altar and 
pouring forth thanks for their victory, while the vaults resound 
with sacred minstrelsy and the deep-toned Te Deum. 

The transient illusion is over — the pageant melts from the 
fancy — monarch, priest, and warrior return into oblivion, with 
the poor Moslems over whom they exulted. The hall of their 



THE COURT OF LIONS. 63 

triumph is waste and desolate. The bat flits about its twilight 
vaults, and the owl hoots from the neighboring tower of Co- 
mares. The Court of the Lions has also its share of supernatural 
legends. I have already mentioned the belief in the murmur- 
ing of voices and clanking of chains, made at night by the spirits 
of the murdered Abencerrages. Mateo Ximenes, a few even- 
ings since, at one of the gatherings in Dame Anton ia's apart- 
ment, related a fact which happened within the knowledge of 
his grandfather, the legendary tailor. There was an invalid sol- 
dier, who had charge of the Alhambra, to show it to strangers. 
As he was one evening about twilight passing through' the 
Court of Lions, he heard footsteps in the Hall of the Aben- 
cerrages. Supposing some loungers to be lingering there, he 
advanced to attend upon them, when, to his astonishment, he 
beheld four Moors richly dressed, with gilded cuirasses and 
cimeters, and poniards glittering with precious stones. They 
were walking to and fro with solemn pace, but patfsed and 
beckoned to him. The old soldier, however, took to flight; 
and could never afterwards be prevailed upon to enter the 
Alhambra. Thus it is that men sometimes turn their backs 
upon fortune ; for it is the firm opinion of Mateo that the Moors 
intended to reveal the place where their treasures lay buried. 
A successor to the invalid soldier was more knowing ; he came 
to the Alhambra poor, but at the end of a year went off to 
Malaga, bought horses, set up a carriage, and still lives there, 
one of the richest as well as oldest men of the place : all which, 
Mateo sagely surmises, was in consequence of his finding out 
the golden secret of these phantom Moors. 

On entering the Court of the Lions, a few evenings since, I was 
startled at beholding a turbaned Moor quietly seated near the 
fountain. It -seemed, for a moment, as if one of the stories 
of Mateo Ximenes were realized, and some ancient inhabitant of 
the Alhambra had broken the spell of centuries, and become 
visible. It proved, however, to be a mere ordinary mortal ; a 
native of Tetuan in Barbary, who had a shop in the Zacatin of 
Granada, where he sold rhubarb, trinkets, and perfumes. As 
he spoke Spanish fluently, I was enabled to hold conversation 
with him, and found him shrewd and intelligent. He told me 
that he came up the hill occasionally in the summer, to pass a 
part of the day in the Alhambra, which reminded him of the 
old palaces in Barbary, which were built and adorned in similar 
style, though with less magnificence. 

As we walked about the palace he pointed out several of the 
Arabic inscriptions, as possessing much poetic beauty. 



64 THE ALHAMBRA. 

" Ah ! Senor," said he, " when the Moors held Granada, they 
were a gayer people than they are now-a-days. They thought 
only of love, of music, and of poetry. They made stanzas 
upon every occasion, and set them all to music. He who could, 
make the best verses, and she who had the most tuneful voice, 
might be sure of favor and preferment. In those days, if any 
one asked for bread the reply was, 4 Make me a couplet ; ' and 
the poorest beggar, if he begged in rhyme, would often be re- 
warded with a piece of gold." 

" And is the popular feeling for poetry," said I, " entirely 
lost among you ? ' ' 

;i By no means, Senor ; the people of Barbary even those of 
the lower classes, still make couplets, and good ones too, as 
in the old time, but talent is not rewarded as it was then : the 
rich prefer the jingle of their gold to the sound of poetry or 
music." 

As he was talking, his e} T e caught one of the inscriptions 
that foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the Mos- 
lem monarchs, the masters of the pile. He shook his head 
and shrugged his shoulders as he interpreted it. " Such might 
have been the case," said he ; " the Moslems might still have 
been reigning in the Alhambra, had not Boabdil been a trai- 
tor, and given up his capitol to the Christians. The Spanish 
monarchs would never have been able to conquer it by open 
force." 

I endeavored to vindicate the memory of the unlucky Boab- 
dil from this aspersion, and to show that the dissensions which 
led to the downfall of the Moorish throne, originated in the 
cruelty of his tiger-hearted father ; but the Moor would admit 
of no palliation. 

'•' Abul Hassan," said he, " might have been cruel, but he 
was brave, vigilant, and patriotic. Had he been properly sec- 
onded, Granada would still have been ours ; but his son Boabdil 
thwarted his plans, crippled his power, sowed treason in his 
palace, and dissension in his camp. May the curse of God light 
upon him for his treachery." With these words the Moor left 
the Alhambra. 

The indignation of my turbaned companion agrees with an 
anecdote related by a friend, who, in the course of a tour in 
Barbary, had an interview with the pasha of Tetuan. The 
Moorish governor was particular in his inquiries about the soil, 
the climate, and resources of Spain, and especially concerning 
the favored regions of Andalusia, the delights of Granada, and 
the remains of its royal palace. The replies awakened all those 



BOABDIL EL CHICO. 65 

fond recollections, so deeply cherished by the Moors, of the 
power and splendor of their ancient empire in Spain. Turning 
to his Moslem attendants, the pasha stroked his beard, and 
broke forth in passionate lamentations that such a sceptre 
should have fallen from the sway of true believers. He consoled 
himself, however, with the persuasion, that the power and pros- 
perity of the Spanish nation were on the decline ; that a time 
would come when the Moors would reconquer their rightful do- 
mains ; and that the day was, perhaps, not far distant, when 
Mohammedan worship would again be offered up in the mosque 
of Cordova, and a Mohammedan prince sit ok his throne in the 
Alhambra. 

Such is the general aspiration and belief among the Moors of 
Barbary ; who consider Spain, and especially Andalusia, their 
rightful heritage, of which they have been despoiled by treach- 
ery and violence. These ideas are fostered and perpetuated 
by the descendants of the exiled Moors of Granada, scattered 
among the cities of Barbary. Several of these reside in Tetuan, 
preserving their ancient names, such as Paez, and Medina, and 
refraining from intermarriage with any families who cannot 
claim the same high origin. Their vaunted lineage is regarded 
with a degree of popular deference rarely shown in Moham- 
medan communities to any hereditary distinction except in the 
royal line. 

These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the terres- 
trial paradise of their ancestors, and to put up prayers in their 
mosques on Fridays, imploring Allah to hasten the time when 
Granada shall be restored to the faithful ; an event to which 
they looked forward as fondly and confidently as did the Chris- 
tian crusaders to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. Nay, it 
is added, that some of them retain the ancient maps and deeds 
of the estates and gardens of their ancestors at Granada, and 
even the keys of the houses ; holding them as evidences of 
their hereditary claims, to be produced at the anticipated day 
of restoration. 



BOABDIL EL CHICO. 

My conversation with the Moor in the Court of Lions set me 
to musing on the singular fate of Boabdil. Never was surname 
more applicable than that bestowed upon him by his subjects, of 
" El Zogoybi," or, ''the unlucky." His misfortunes began 



66 THE ALHAMBRA. 

almost in his cradle. In his tender youth he was imprisoned 
and menaced with death by an inhuman father, and only es- 
caped through a mother's stratagem ; in after years his life 
was imbittered and repeatedly endangered by the hostilities of 
a usurping uncle ; his reign was distracted by external inva- 
sions and internal feuds ; he was alternately the foe, the pris- 
oner, the friend, and always the dupe of Ferdinand, until 
conquered and dethroned by the mingled craft and force of 
that perfidious monarch. An exile from his native land, he- 
took refuge with one of the princes of Africa, and fell ob- 
scurely in battle fighting in the cause of a stranger. His mis- 
fortunes ceased not with his death. If Boabdil cherished a 
desire to leave an honorable name on the historic page, how 
cruelly has he been defrauded of his hopes ! Who is there that 
has turned the least attention to the romantic history of the 
Moorish domination in Spain, without kindling with indigna- 
tion at the alleged atrocities of Boabdil ? Who has not been 
touched with the woes of his lovely and gentle queen, subjected 
by him to a trial of life and death, on a false charge of infidel- 
ity ? Who has not been shocked by the alleged murder of his 
sister and her two children, in a transport of passion? Who 
has not felt his blood boil at the inhuman massacre of the gal- 
lant Abencerrages, thirty-six of whom, it is affirmed, he caused 
to be beheaded in the Court of the Lions ? All these charges 
have been reiterated in various forms; they have passed into 
ballads, dramas, and romances, until they have taken too 
thorough possession of the public mind to be eradicated. 

There is not a foreigner of education that visits the Alham- 
bra, but asks for the fountain where the Abencerrages were 
beheaded ; and gazes with horror at the grated gallery where 
the queen is said to have been confined ; not a peasant of the 
Vega or the Sierra, but sings the story in rude couplets to the 
accompaniment of his guitar, while his hearers learn to exe- 
crate the very name of Boabdil. 

Never, however, was name more foully and unjustly slan- 
dered. I have examined all the authentic chronicles and 
letters written by Spanish authors contemporary with Boabdil ; 
some of whom were in the confidence of the Catholic sovereigns, 
and actually present in the camp throughout the war ; I have 
examined all the Arabian authorities 'I could get access to 
through the medium of translation, and can find nothing to 
justify these dark and hateful accusations. 

The whole of these tales may be traced to a work commonly 
called "The Civil Wars of Granada," containing- a pretended 



BOABBIL EL CHICO. 67 

history of the feuds of the Zegries and Abencerrages during 
the last struggle of the Moorish empire. This work appeared 
originally in Spanish, and professed to be translated from the 
Arabic by one Gines Perez de Hita, an inhabitant of Murcia. 
It has since passed into various languages, and Florian has 
taken from it much of the fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova. 
It has, in a great measure, usurped the authority of real his- 
tory, and is currently believed by the people, and especially 
the peasantry of Granada. The whole of it, however, is a mass 
of fiction, mingled with a few disfigured truths, which give it 
an air of veracity. It bears internal evidence of its falsity, the 
manners and customs of the Moors being extravagantly mis- 
represented in it, and scenes depicted totally incompatible with 
their habits and their faith, and which never could have been 
recorded by a Mahometan writer. 

I confess there seems to me something almost criminal in the 
wilful perversions of this work. Great latitude is undoubtedly 
to be allowed to romantic fiction, but there are limits which it 
must not pass, and the names of the distinguished dead, which 
belong to history, are no more to be calumniated than those of 
the illustrious living. One would have thought, too, that the 
unfortunate Boabdil had suffered enough for his justifiable hos- 
tility to Spaniards, by being stripped of his kingdom, without 
having his name thus wantonly traduced and rendered a by- 
word and a theme of infamy in his native land, and in the very 
mansion of his fathers ! 

It is not intended hereby to affirm that the transactions im- 
puted to Boabdil are totally without historic foundation, but 
as far as they can be traced, they appear to have been the arts 
of his father, Abul Hassan, who is represented, by both Chris- 
tian and Arabian chroniclers, as being of a cruel and ferocious 
nature. It was he who put to death the cavaliers of the illus- 
trious line of the Abencerrages, upon suspicion of their being 
engaged in a conspiracy to dispossess him of his throne. 

The story of the accusation of the queen of Boabdil, and of 
her confinement in one of the towers, may also be traced to an 
incident in the life of his tiger-hearted father. Abul Hassan, 
in his advanced age, mar/ied a beautiful Christian captive of 
noble descent, who took the Moorish appellation of Zorayda, 
by whom he had two sons. She was of an ambitious spirit, 
and anxious that her children should succeed to the crown. 
For this purpose she worked upon the suspicious temper of the 
king ; inflaming him with jealousies of his children by his other 
wives and concubines, whom she accused of plotting against 



68 THE ALUAMBRA. 

his throne and life. Some of them were slain by the ferocious 
father. Ayxa la Horra, the virtuous mother of Boabdil, who 
had once been his cherished favorite, became likewise the 
object of his suspicion. He confined her and her son in the 
tower of Comares, and would have sacrificed Boabdil to his 
fury, but that his tender mother lowered him from the tower, 
in the night, by means of the scarfs of herself and her attend- 
ants, and thus enabled him to escape to Guadix. 

Such is the only shadow of a foundation that I can find for 
the story of the accused and captive queen ; and in this it 
appears that Boabdil was the persecuted instead of the per- 
secutor. 

Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and disastrous 
reign, Boabdil gives evidences of a mild and amiable character. 
He in the first instance won the hearts of the people by his 
affable and gracious manners ; he was always peaceable, and 
never inflicted any severity of punishment upon those who 
occasionally rebelled against him. He was personally brave, 
but he wanted moral courage, and in times of difficulty and 
perplexit} 7 , was wavering and irresolute. This feebleness of 
spirit hastened his downfall, while it deprived him of that 
heroic grace which would have given a grandeur and dignity 
to his fate, and rendered him worthy of closing the splendid 
drama of the Moslem domination in Spain. 



MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. 

While my mind was still warm with the subject of the un- 
fortunate Boabdil, I set forth to trace the mementos connected 
with his story, which yet exist in this scene of his sovereignty 
and his misfortunes. In the picture gallery of the Palace of 
the Generaliffe, hangs his portrait. The face is mild, handsome, 
and somewhat melancholy, with a fair complexion and yellow 
hair ; if it be a true representation of the man, he may have 
been wavering and uncertain, but there is nothing of cruelty or 
unkindness in his aspect. 

I next visited the dungeon wherein he was confined in his 
youthful days, when his cruel father meditated his destruction. 
It is a vaulted room in the tower of Comares, under the Hall of 
Ambassadors. A similar room, separated by a narrow passage, 
was the prison of his mother, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra. The 



MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. 69 

walls are of prodigious thickness, and the small windows secured 
by iron bars. A narrow stone gallery, with a low parapet, ex- 
tends round three sides of the tower just below the windows, 
but at a considerable height from the ground. From this gal- 
lery, it is presumed, the queen lowered her son with the scarfs 
of herself and her female attendants, during the darkness of 
night, to the hillside, at the foot of which waited a domestic 
with a fleet steed to bear the prince to the mountains. 

As I paced this gallery, my imagination pictured the anxious 
queen leaning over the parapet, and listening, with the throb- 
bings of a mother's heart, to the last echo of the horse's hoofs, 
as her son scoured along the narrow valley of the Darro. 

My next search was for the gate by which Boabdil departed 
from the Alhambra, when about to surrender his capital. 
With the melancholy caprice of a broken spirit, he requested 
of the Catholic monarchs that no one afterwards might be per- 
mitted to pass through this gate. His prayer, according to 
ancient chronicles, was complied with, through the sympathy of 
Isabella, and the gate walled up. For some time 1 inquired in 
vain for such a portal ; at length my humble attendant, Mateo, 
learned among the old residents of the fortress, that a ruinous 
gateway still existed, by which, according to tradition, the 
Moorish king had left the fortress, but which had never been 
opened within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. 

He conducted me to the spot. The gateway is in the centre 
of what was once an immense tower, called la Torre de los 
Siete Suelos, or, the Tower of the Seven Moors. It is a place 
famous in the superstitious stories of the neighborhood, for 
being the scene of strange apparitions and Moorish enchant- 
ments. 

This once redoubtable tower is now a mere wreck, having 
been blown up with gunpowder by the French, when they 
abandoned the fortress. Great masses of the wall lie scattered 
about, buried in the luxuriant herbage, or overshadowed by 
vines and fig-trees. The arch of the gateway, though rent by 
the shock, still remains ; but the last wish of poor Boabdil has 
been again, though unintentionally, fulfilled, for the portal has 
been closed up by loose stones gathered from the ruins, and 
remains impassable. 

Following up the route of the Moslem monarch as it remains 
on record, I crossed on horseback the hill of Les Martyrs, keep- 
ing along the garden of the convent of the same name, and 
thence down a rugged ravine, beset by thickets of aloes and 
Indian figs, and lined b} T caves and hovels swarming with gyp- 



70 THE ALHAMBRA. 

sies. It was the road taken by Boabdii to avoid passing 
through the city. The descent was so steep and broken that 1 
was obliged to dismount and lead my horse. 

Emerging from the ravine, and passing by the Puerta de los 
Molinos, (the Gate of the Mills,) I issued forth upon the public 
promenade, called the Prado, and pursuing the course of the 
Xenil, arrived at a small Moorish mosque, now converted into 
the chapel, or hermitage of San Sebastian. A tablet on the 
wall relates that on this spot Boabdii surrendered the keys of 
Granada to the Castilian sovereigns. 

From thence I rode slowly across the Vega to a village where 
the family and household of the unhappy king had awaited 
him ; for he had sent them forward on the preceding night from 
the Alhambra, that his mother and wife might not participate 
in his personal humiliation, or be exposed to the gaze of the 
conquerors. 

Following on in the route of the melancholy band of royal 
exiles, I arrived at the foot of a chain of barren and dreary 
heights, forming the skirt of the Alpuxarra mountains. From 
the summit of one of these, the unfortunate Boabdii took his 
last look at Granada. It bears a name expressive of his sor- 
rows — La Cuesta de las Lagrimas, (the Hill of Tears.) Beyond 
it a sandy road winds across a rugged cheerless waste, doubly 
dismal to the unhappy monarch, as it led to exile ; behind, in 
the distance, lies the " enamelled Vega," with the Xenil shining 
among its bowers, and Granada be} T ond. 

I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where Boabdii 
uttered his last sorrowful exclamation, as he turned his eyes 
from taking their farewell gaze. It is still denominated el ul- 
timo suspiro del Moro, (the last sigh of the Moor.) Who can 
wonder at his anguish at being expelled from such a kingdom 
and such an abode? With the Alhambra he seemed to be 
yielding up all the honors of his line, and all the glories and 
delights of life. 

It was here, too, that his affliction was imbittered by the re- 
proach of his mother Ayxa, who had so often assisted him in 
times of peril, and had vainly sought to instil into him her own 
resolute spirit. ""You do well," said she, "to weep as a woman 
over what you could not defend as a man ! " — A speech that 
savors more of the pride of the princess, than the tenderness 
of the mother. 

When this anecdote was related to Charles V., by Bishop 
Guevara, the emperor joined in the expression of scorn at the 
weakness of the wavering Boabdii. "Had I been he, or he 



TEE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. 71 

been I," said the haughty potentate, U I would rather have 
made this Alhambra my sepulchre, than have lived without a 
kingdom in the Alpuxarra." 

How easy it is for them in power and prosperity to preach 
heroism to the vanquished ! How little can they understand 
that life itself may rise in value with the unfortunate, when 
naught but life remains. 



THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. 

In an evening's stroll up a narrow glen, overshadowed by 
fig-trees, pomegranates, and myrtles, that divides the land of 
the fortress from those of the Generaliffe, I was struck with 
the romantic appearance of ^a Moorish tower in the outer wall 
of the Alhambra, that rose high above the tree-tops, and 
caught the ruddy rays of the setting sun. A solitary window, 
at a great height, commanded a view of the glen, and as I was 
regarding it a young female looked out, with her head adorned 
with flowers. She was evidently superior to the usual class of 
people that inhabit the old towers of the fortress ; and this 
sudden and picturesque glimpse of her, reminded me of the 
descriptions of captive beauties in fairy tales. The fanciful 
associations of my mind were increased on being informed by 
my attendant, Mateo, that this was the tower of the princesses, 
(la Torre de las Infantas,) so called from having been, accord- 
ing to tradition, the residence of the daughters of the Moorish 
kings. I have since visited the tower. It is not generally 
shown to strangers, though well worthy attention, for the 
interior is equal for beauty of architecture and delicacy of 
ornament, to any part of the palace. The elegance of its cen- 
tral hall with its marble fountain, its lofty arches and richly 
fretted dome ; the arabesques and stucco work of the small, 
but well proportioned chambers, though injured by time and 
neglect, all accord with the story of its being anciently the 
abode of royal beaut}'. 

The little old fairy queen who lives under the staircase of 
the Alhambra, and frequents the evening tertulias of Dame 
Antonia, tells some fanciful traditions about three Moorish 
princesses who were once shut up in this tower by their father, 
a tyrant king of Granada, and were only permitted to ride out 
at night about the hills, when no one was permitted to come in 



72 THE ALIIAMBRA. 

their way, under pain of death. They still, according to her 
account, may be seen occasionally when the moon is in the 
full, riding in lonely places along the mountain side, on pal- 
freys richly caparisoned, and sparkling with jewels, but they 
vanish on being spoken to. 

— But before I relate any thing farther respecting these prin- 
cesses, the reader may be anxious to know something about 
the fair inhabitant of the tower with her head drest with 
flowers, who looked out from the lofty window. She proved 
to be the newly married spouse of the worthy adjutant of 
invalids ; who, though well stricken in years, had had the 
courage to take to his bosom a young and buxom Andalusian 
damsel. May the good old cavalier be happy in his choice, 
and find the tower of the Princesses a more secure residence 
for female beauty than it seems to have proved in the time of 
the Moslems, if we may believe the following legend. 



THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK. 

On the brow of the lofty hill of the Albaj-cin, the highest 
part of the city of Granada, stand the remains of what was 
once a royal palace, founded shortly after the conquest of 
Spain by the Arabs. It is now converted into a manufactor} 7 , 
and has fallen into such obscurity that it cost me much trouble 
to find it, notwithstanding that I had the assistance of the 
sagacious and all-knowing Mateo Ximenes. This edifice still 
bears the name by which it has been known for centuries, 
namely, la Casa del Gallo de Viento ; that is, the House of the 
AVeathercock. 

It was so called from a bronze figure of a warrior on horse- 
back, armed with shield and spear, erected on one of its tur- 
rets, and turning with every wind ; bearing an Arabic motto, 
which, translated into Spanish, was as follows : 

Dici el Sabio Aben Habuz 
Que asise dehende el Anduluz. 

In this way, says Aben Habuz the wise, 
The Andalusian his foe defies. 

This Aben Habuz was a captain who served in the invading 
army of Tarie, and was left as alcayde of Granada. He is 
supposed to have intended this warlike effigy as a perpetual 



THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 73 

memorial to the Moorish inhabitants, that surrounded as they 
were by foes, and subject to sudden invasion, their safety de- 
pended upon being always ready for the field. 

Other traditions, however, give a different account of this 
Aben Habuz and his palace, and affirm that his bronze horse- 
man was originally a talisman of great virtue, though in after 
ages it lost its magic properties and degenerated into a weather- 
cock. The following are the traditions alluded to. 



THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 

In old times, man} T hundred years ago, there was a Moorish 
king named Aben Habuz, who reigned over the kingdom of 
Granada. He was a retired conqueror, that is to say, one who, 
having in his more youthful da}'S led a life of constant foray 
and depredation, now that he was grown old and superan- 
nuated, u languished for repose," and desired nothing more 
than to live at peace with all the world, to husband his laurels, 
and to enjoy in quiet the possessions he had wrested from his 
neighbors. 

It so happened, however, that this most reasonable and pacific 
old monarch had young rivals to deal with — princes full of his 
earl}' passion for fame and fighting, and who had some scores 
to settle which he had run up with their fathers ; he had also 
some turbulent and discontented districts of his own territories 
among the Alpuxarra mountains, which, during the days of his 
vigor, he had treated with a high hand ; and which, now that 
he languished for repose, were prone to rise in rebellion and 
to threaten to march to Granada and drive him from his throne. 
To make the matter worse, as Granada is surrounded by wild 
and craggy mountains which hide the approach of an enemy, 
the unfortunate Aben Habuz was kept in a constant state of 
vigilance and alarm, not knowing in what quarter hostilities 
might break out. 

It was in vain that he built watch-towers on the mountains 
and stationed guards at every pass, with orders to make fires 
by night, and smoke by day, on the approach of an enemy. 
His alert foes would baffle eveiy precaution, and come breaking- 
out of some unthought-of defile, — ravage his lands beneath his 
very nose, and then make off with prisoners and booty to the 
mountains. Was ever peaceable and retired conqueror in a 
more uncomfortable predicament ! 



74 THE ALHAMBRA. 

While the pacific Aben Habuz was harassed by these per- 
plexities and molestations, an" ancient Arabian physician ar- 
rived at his court. His gray beard descended to his girdle, 
and he had every mark of extreme age, yet he had travelled 
almost the whole way from Egypt on foot, with no other aid 
than a staff marked with hieroglyphics. His fame had pre- 
ceded him. His name was Ibrahim Elm Abu Ayub ; he was 
said to have lived ever since the days of Mahomet, and to be 
the son of Abu Ayub, the last of the companions of the prophet. 
He had, when a child, followed the conquering army of Amru 
into Egypt, where he had remained many years studying the 
dark sciences, and particularly magic, among the Egyptian 
priests. It was moreover said that he had found out the secret 
of prolonging life, by means of which he had arrived to the 
great age of upwards of two centuries ; though, as he did not 
discover the secret until well stricken in years, he could only 
perpetuate his gray hairs and wrinkles. 

This wonderful old man was very honorably entertained by 
the king ; who, like most superannuated monarchs, began to 
take physicians into great favor. He would have assigned him 
an apartment in his palace, but the astrologer preferred a cave 
in the side of the hill, which rises above the city of Granada, 
being the same on which the Alhambra has since been built. 
He caused the cave to be enlarged so as to form a spacious and 
lofty hall with a circular hole at the top, through which, as 
through a well, he could see the heavens and behold the stars 
even at mid-day. The walls of this hall were covered with 
Egyptian hieroglyphics, with cabalistic symbols, and with the 
figures of the stars in their signs. This hall he furnished with 
many implements, fabricated under his direction by cunning 
artificers of Granada, but the occult properties of which were 
only known to himself. In a little while the sage Ibrahim be- 
came the bosom counsellor of the king, to whom he applied for 
advice in every emergency. Aben Habuz was once inveighing 
against the injustice of his neighbors, and bewailing the restless 
vigilance lie had to observe to guard himself against their inva- 
sions ; — when he had finished, the astrologer remained silent 
lor a moment, and then replied. "Know, 6 king, that when I 
was in Egypt I beheld a great marvel devised by a pagan 
priestess of old. On a mountain above the city of Borsa, and 
overlooking the great valley of the Nile, was a figure of a ram, 
and above it :i figure of a cock, both of molten brass and turn- 
ing upon ;i pivot. Whenever the country was threatened with 
invasion, the nun would turn in the direction of the enemy and 



THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 75 

the cock would crow ; upon this the inhabitants of the city 
knew of the clanger, and of the quarter from which it was ap- 
proaching, and could take timely notice to guard against it." 

" God is great ! " exclaimed the pacific Aben Habuz ; " what 
a treasure would be such a ram to keep an eye upon these 
mountains around me, and then such a cock to crow in time 
of danger. Allah Achbar ! how securely I might sleep in my 
palace with such sentinels on the top ! ' ' 

"Listen, O king," continued the astrologer gravely. "When 
the victorious Amru (God's peace be upon him ! ) conquered 
the city of Borsa, this talisman was destroyed ; but I was 
present, and examined it, and studied its secret and mystery, 
and can make one of like, and even of greater virtues." 

" O wise son of Abu Ayub," cried Aben Habuz, " better 
were such a talisman than all the watch-towers on the hills, 
and sentinels upon the borders. Give me such a safeguard, 
and the riches of my treasury are at thy command." 

The astrologer immediately set to work to gratif}' the wishes 
of the monarch ; shutting himself up in his astrological hall, 
and exerting the necromantic arts he had learnt in Egypt, he 
summoned to his assistance the spirits and demons of the Nile. 
By his command they transported to his presence a mummy 
from a sepulchral chamber in the centre of one of the Pyramids. 
It was the mummy of the priest who had aided by magic art in 
rearing that stupendous pile. 

The astrologer opened the outer cases of the mummy, and 
unfolded its many wrappers. On the breast of the corpse was 
a book written in Chaldaic characters. He seized it with trem- 
bling hand, then returning the mummy to its case, ordered the 
demons to transport it again to its dark and silent sepulchre in 
the Pyramid, there to await the final day of resurrection and 
judgment. 

This book, say the traditions, was the book of knowledge 
given by God to Adam after his- fall. It had been handed 
down from generation to generation, to King Solomon the 
Wise, and by the aid of the wonderful secrets in magic and 
art revealed in it, he had built the temple of Jerusalem. How 
it had come into the possession of the builder of the Pyramids, 
He only knows who knows all things. 

Instructed by this mystic volume, and aided b}' the genii 
which it subjected to his command, the astrologer soon erected 
a great tower upon the top of the palace of Aben Habuz, which 
stood on the brow of the hill of the Albaycin. The tower was 
built of stones brought from Egypt, and taken, it is said, from 



76 THE ALHAMBRA. 

one of the Pyramids. In the upper part of the tower was a 
circular hall, with windows looking toward every point of the 
compass, and before each window was a table, on which was 
arranged, as on a chess-board, a mimic army of horse and foot, 
with the effigy of the potentate that ruled in that direction ; all 
carved of wooa. To each of these tables there was a small 
lance, no bigger than a bodkin, on which were engraved certain 
mysterious Chaldaic characters. This hall was kept constantly 
closed by a gate of brass with a great lock of steel, the key of 
which was in possession of the king. 

On the top of the tower was a bronze figure of a Moorish 
horseman, fixed on a pivot, with a shield on one arm, and his 
lance elevated perpendicularly. The face of this horseman was 
towards the city, as if keeping guard over it ; but if any foe 
were at hand, the figure would turn in that direction and would 
level the lance as if for action. 

AYhen this talisman was finished, Aben Habuz was all impa- 
tient to try its virtues ; and longed as ardently for an invasion 
as he had ever sighed after repose. His desire was soon grati- 
fied. Tidings were brought early one morning, by the sentinel 
appointed to watch the tower, that the face of the brazen horse- 
man was turned towards the mountains of Elvira, and that his 
lance pointed directly against the pass of Lope. 

" Let the drums and trumpets sound to arms, and all Gra- 
nada be put on the alert," said Aben Habuz. 

"0 king," said the astrologer, "let not your city be dis- 
quieted, nor } T our warriors called to arms ; we need no aid of 
force to deliver you from } 7 our enemies. Dismiss } T our attend- 
ants and let us proceed alone to the secret hall of the tower." 

The ancient Aben Habuz mounted the staircase of the tower, 
leaning on the arm of the still more ancient Ibrahim Ebn Abu 
Ayub. They unlocked the brazen door and entered. The win- 
dow that looked towards the pass of Lope was open. "In this 
direction," said the astrologer, "lies the danger — approach, O 
king, and behold the mystery of the table." 

King Aben Habuz approached the seeming chess-board, on 
which were arranged the small wooden effigies ; when lo ! they 
were all in motion. The horses pranced and curveted, the 
warriors brandished their weapons, and there was a faint 
sound of drums and trumpets, and a clang of arms and neigh- 
ing of steeds, but all no louder, nor more distinct, than the hum 
of the bee or summer-fly in the drows}' ear of him who lies at 
noon-tide in the shade. 

"Behold, U king," said the astrologer, "a proof that thy 



THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 77 

enemies are even now in the field. They must be advancing 
through yonder mountains by the pass of Lope. Would you 
produce a panic and confusion amongst them, and cause them 
to abandon their enterprise and retreat without loss of life, 
strike these effigies with the but-end of this magic lance ; but 
would you cause bloody feud and carnage among them, strike 
with the point." 

A livid streak passed across the countenance of the pacific 
Aben Habuz ; he seized the mimic lance with trembling eager- 
ness, and tottered towards the table ; his gray beard wagged 
with chuckling exultation. " Son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed 
he, "I think we will have a little blood ! " 

So sa}ing he thrust the magic lance into some of the pygmy 
effigies, and belabored others with the but-end ; upon which 
the former fell, as dead, upon the board, and the rest turning 
upon each other, began, pell-mell, a chance-medley fight. 

It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand of 
the most pacific of monarchs, and prevent him from absolutely 
exterminating his foes. At length he prevailed upon him to 
leave the tower, and to send out scouts to the mountains by 
the pass of Lope. 

They returned with the intelligence that a Christian army 
had advanced through the heart of the Sierra, almost within 
sight of Granada, when a dissension having broken out among 
them, they had turned their weapons against each other, and 
after much slaughter, had retreated over the border. 

Aben Habuz was transported with joy on thus proving the 
efficacy of the talisman. " At length," said he, "I shall lead 
a life of tranquillity, and have all my enemies in my power. 
Oh ! wise son of Abu Ayub, what can I bestow on thee in 
reward for such a blessing ? ' ' 

"The wants of an old man and a philosopher, O king, are 
few and simple — grant me but the means of fitting up my cave 
as a suitable hermitage, and I am content." 

" How noble is the moderation of the truly wise ! " exclaimed 
Aben Habuz, secretly pleased at the cheapness of the recom- 
pense. He summoned his treasurer, and bade him dispense 
whatever sums might be required by Ibrahim to complete and 
furnish his hermitage. 

The astrologer now gave orders to have various chambers 
hewn out of the solid rock, so as to form ranges of apartments 
connected with his astrological hall. These he caused to be 
furnished with luxurious ottomans and divans ; and the walls 
to be hung with the richest silks of Damascus. " I am an old 



78 TEE ALHAMBRA. 

man," said he, " and can no longer rest my bones on stone 
couches ; and these damp walls require covering." 

He also had baths constructed and provided with all kinds of 
perfumery and aromatic oils ; " for a bath," said he, u is neces- 
sary to counteract the rigidity of age, and to restore freshness 
and suppleness to the frame withered by study." 

He caused the apartments to be hung with innumerable silver 
and crystal lamps, which he filled with a fragrant oil prepared 
according to a receipt discovered by him in the tombs of Egypt. 
This oil was perpetual in its nature, and diffused a soft radi- 
ance like the tempered light of day. " The light of the sun," 
said he, " is too garrish and violent for the eyes of an old man ; 
and the light of the lamp is more congenial to the studies of a 
philosopher." 

The treasurer of King Aben Habuz groaned at the sums 
daily demanded to fit up this hermitage, and he carried his 
complaints to the king. The royal word, however, was given 
— Aben Habuz shrugged his shoulders. — "We must have 
patience," said he; ''this old man has taken his idea of a 
philosophic retreat from the interior of the Pyramids and the 
vast ruins of Egypt ; but all things have an end, and so will 
the furnishing of his cavern . ' ' 

The king was in the right ; the hermitage was at length com- 
plete, and formed a sumptuous subterranean palace. "I am 
now content," said Ibrahim Ebn Abu A} T ub, to the treasurer; 
'• I will shut myself up in my cell and devote my time to study. 
I desire nothing more, — nothing, — except a trifling solace to 
amuse me at the intervals of mental labor." 

" Oh ! wise Ibrahim, ask what thou wilt ; I am bound to fur- 
nish all that is necessary for thy solitude." 

"I would fain have then a few dancing women," said the 
philosopher. 

" Dancing women ! " echoed the treasurer with surprise. 

" Dancing women," replied the sage, gravely: "a few will 
suffice ; for I am an old man and a philosopher, of simple 
habits and easily satisfied. Let them, however, be young and 
fair to look upon — for the sight of youth and beauty is refresh- 
ing to old age." 

While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn Ayub passed his time 
thus sagely in his hermitage, the pacific Aben Habuz carried 
on furious campaigns in effigy in his tower. It was a glorious 
thing for an old man like himself, of quiet habits, to have war 
made easy, and to be enabled to amuse himself in his chamber 
by brushing away whole armies like so many swarms of flies. 



THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 79 

For a time he rioted in the indulgence of his humors, and even 
taunted and insulted his neighbors to induce them to make 
incursions ; but by degrees they grew wary from repeated disas- 
ters, until no one ventured to invade his territories. For many 
months the bronze horseman remained on the peace establish- 
ment with his lance elevated in the air, and the worthy old 
monarch began to repine at the want of his accustomed sport, 
and to grow peevish at his monotonous tranquillity. 

At length, one day, the talismanic horseman veered suddenly 
round, and, lowering his lance, made a dead point towards the 
mountains of Guadix. Aben Habuz hastened to his tower, but 
the magic table in that direction remained quiet — not a single 
warrior was in motion. Perplexed at the circumstance, he sent 
forth a troop of horse to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. 
They returned after three days' absence. Rodovan, the captain 
of the troop, addressed the king: "We have searched every 
mountain pass," said he, u but not a helm or spear was stirring. 
All that we have found in the course of our foray was a Chris- 
tian damsel of surpassing beauty, sleeping at noon-tide beside 
a fountain, whom we have brought away captive." 

" A damsel of surpassing beauty ! " exclaimed Aben Habuz, 
his e} 7 es gleaming with animation : "let her be conducted into 
my presence." "Pardon me, O king ! " replied Rodovan, t; but 
our warfare at present is scanty ; and yields but little harvest. 
I had hoped this chance gleaning would have been allowed for 
my services." 

"Chance gleaning!" cried Aben Habuz. "What! — a 
damsel of surpassing beauty ! By the head of my father ! it is 
the choice fruits of warfare, only to be garnered up into the 
royal keeping. — Let the damsel be brought hither instantly." 

The beautiful damsel was accordingly conducted into his 
presence. She was. arrayed in the Gothic style, with all the 
luxury of ornament that had prevailed among the Gothic 
Spaniards at the time of the Arabian conquest. Pearls of 
dazzling whiteness were intwined with her raven tresses ; and 
jewels sparkled on her forehead, rivalling the lustre of her 
eyes. Around her neck was a golden chain, to which was 
suspended a silver lyre which hung by her side. 

The flashes of her dark refulgent e} 7 e were like sparks of 
fire on the withered, yet combustible breast of Aben Habuz, and 
set it in a flame. The swimming voluptuousness of her gait 
made his senses reel. "Fairest of women," cried he, with 
rapture, " who and what art thou? " — 

4 ' The daughter of one of the Gothic princes who lately ruled 



80 THE ALHAMBRA. 

over this land. The armies of my father have been destroyed 
as if by magic among these mountains, he has been driven into 
exile, and his daughter is a slave." 

"Be comforted, beautiful princess — thou art no longer a 
slave, but a sovereign ; turn thine eyes graciously upon Aben 
Habuz, and reign over him and his dominions." 

"Beware, O king," whispered Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ; 
" this may be some spirit conjured up by the magicians of the 
Goths, and sent for thy undoing. Or it may be one of those 
northern sorceresses, who assume the most seducing forms to 
beguile the unwary. Methinks I read witchcraft in her eye, 
and sorcery in every movement. Let my sovereign beware — 
this must be the enemy pointed out by the talisman." " Son 
of Abu Ayub," replied the king, "you are a wise man and a 
conjurer, I grant — but you are little versed in the ways of 
woman. In the knowledge of the sex, I will yield to no man ; 
no, not to the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding the 
number of his wives and his concubines. As to this damsel, 
I see much comfort in her for my old days, even such comfort 
as David, the father of Solomon, found in the society of 
Abishag the Shunamite." 

" Hearken, O king," rejoined the astrologer, suddenly chan- 
ging his tone — "1 have given thee many triumphs over thy 
enemies, and by means of my talisman, yet thou hast never 
given me share of the spoils ; grant me this one stray captive 
to solace me in my retirement, and I am content." 

" What ! " cried Aben Habuz, "more women ! hast thou not 
already dancing women to solace thee — what more wouldst 
thou desire ? ' ' 

" Dancing women, have I, it is true ; but I have none that 
sing ; and music is a balm to old age. — This captive, I perceive, 
beareth a silver lyre, and must be skilled in minstrelsy. Give 
her to me, I pray thee, to soothe my senses after the toil of 
study." 

The ire of the pacific monarch was kindled, and he loaded 
the philosopher with reproaches. The latter retired indig- 
nantly to his hermitage ; but ere he departed, he again 
warned the monarch to beware of his beautiful captive. Where, 
in fact, is the old man in love that will listen to counsel ? 
Aben Habuz had felt the full power of the witchery of the eye, 
and the sorcery of movement, and the more he gazed, the 
more he was enamoured. 

He resigned himself to the full sway of his passions. His 
only study, was how to render himself amiable in the eyes of 



THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 81 

the Gothic beauty. He had not youth, it is true, to recom- 
mend him, but then he had riches; and when a lover is no 
longer young, he becomes generous. The Zacatin of Granada 
was ransacked for the most precious merchandise of the East. 
Silks, jewels, precious gems and exquisite perfumes, all that 
Asia and Africa yielded of rich and rare, were lavished upon 
the princess. She received all as her due, and regarded them 
with the indifference of one accustomed to magnificence. All 
kinds of spectacles and festivities were devised for her enter- 
tainment ; minstrelsy, dancing, tournaments, bull-fights. — 
Granada, for a time, was a scene of perpetual pageant. The 
Gothic princess seemed to take a delight in causing expense, 
as if she sought to drain the treasures of the monarch. There 
were no bounds to her caprice, or to the extravagance of her 
ideas. Yet, notwithstanding all this munificence, the vener- 
able Aben Habuz could not flatter himself that he had made 
any impression on her heart. She never frowned on him, it is 
true, but she had a singular way of baffling his tender advances. 
Whenever he began to plead his passion, she struck her silver 
lyre. There was a mystic charm in the sound : on hearing 
of it, an irresistible drowsiness seized upon the superannu- 
ated lover, he fell asleep, and only woke when the temporary 
fumes of passion had evaporated. Still the dream of love had 
a bewitching power over his senses ; so he continued to dream 
on ; while all Granada scoffed at his infatuation, and groaned 
at the treasures lavished for a song. 

At length a danger burst over the head of Aben Habuz, 
against which his talisman yielded him no warning. A re- 
bellion broke out in the very heart of his capital, headed by 
the bold Rodovan. Aben Habuz was, for a time, besieged in 
his palace, and it was not without the greatest difficulty that 
he repelled his assailants and quelled the insurrection. 

He now felt himself compelled once more to resort to the 
assistance of the astrologer. He found him still shut up in his 
hermitage, chewing the cud of resentment. "O wise son of 
Abu Ayub," said he, " what thou hast foretold, has, in some 
sort, come to pass. This Gothic princess has brought trouble 
and danger upon me." 

" Is the king then disposed to put her away from him? " said 
the astrologer with animation. 

' ' Sooner would I part with my kingdom ! ' ' replied Aben 
Habuz. 

" What then is the need of disturbing me in my philosoph- 
ical retirement ? ' ' said the astrologer, peevishly. 



82 THE ALHAMBRA. 

" Be not angry, sagest of philosophers. I would fain have 
one more exertion of thy magic art. Devise some means by 
which I may be secure from internal treason, as well as out- 
ward war — some safe retreat, where I may take refuge and be 
at peace." 

The astrologer ruminated for a moment, and a subtle gleam 
shone from his eye under his bushy eyebrows. 

"Thou hast heard, no doubt, O king," said he, "of the 
palace and garden of Irem, whereof mention is made in that 
chapter of the Koran entitled ' the dawn of day.' " 

"I have heard of that garden, — marvellous things are 
related of it by the pilgrims who visit Mecca, but I have 
thought them wild fables, such as those are prone to tell who 
visit remote regions." 

"Listen, king, and thou shalt know the mystery of that 
garden. In my younger days I was in Arabia the Happy, 
tending my father's camels. One of them strayed away from 
the rest, and was lost. I searched for it for several da} T s about 
the deserts of Aden, until wearied and faint, I laid myself 
down and slept under a palm tree by the side of a scanty well. 
When I awoke, I found myself at the gate of a city. I entered 
and beheld noble streets and squares and market places, but 
all were silent and without an inhabitant. I wandered on 
until I came to a sumptuous palace, with a garden adorned 
with fountains and fish-ponds ; and groves and flowers ; and 
orchards laden with delicious fruit ; but still no one was to be 
seen. Upon which, appalled at this loneliness, I hastened to 
depart, and, after issuing forth at the gate of the city, I turned 
to look upon the place, but it was no longer to be seen, nothing 
but the silent desert extended before my eyes. 

" In the neighborhood I met with an aged dervise, learned 
in the traditions and secrets of the land, and related to him 
what had befallen me. ' This,' said he, ' is the far-famed gar- 
den of Irem, one of the wonders of the desert. It only appears 
at times to some wanderer like tlryself, gladdening him with 
the sight of towers and palaces, and garden walls overhung 
with richly laden fruit trees, and then vanishes, leaving 
nothing but a lonely desert. — And this is the story of it : — In 
old times, when this country was inhabited by the Acldiles, 
king Sheddad, the son of Ad, the great grandson of Noah, 
founded here a splendid city. When it was finished, and he 
saw its grandeur, his heart was puffed up with pride and arro- 
gance, and he determined to build a royal palace, with gardens 
that should rival all that was related in the Koran of the celes- 



THE LEGEND' OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 83 

tial paradise. But the curse of heaven fell upon him for his 
presumption. He and his subjects were swept from the earth, 
and his splendid city, and palace, and garden, were laid under 
a perpetual spell, that hides them from the human sight, ex- 
cepting that they are seen at intervals ; by way of keeping his 
sin in perpetual remembrance.' 

" This story, O king, and the wonders I had seen, ever dwelt 
in my mind, and, in after years, when I had been in Egypt 
and made myself master of all kinds of magic spells, I deter- 
mined to return and visit the garden of Irem. I did so, and 
found it revealed to my instructed sight. I took possession of 
the palace of Sheddad, and passed several days in his mock 
paradise. The genii who watch over the place, were obedient 
to my magic power, and revealed to me the spells by which 
the whole garden had been, as it were, conjured into existence, 
and by which it was rendered invisible. Such spells, O king, 
are within the scope of my art. What sayest thou? Wouldst 
thou have a palace and garden like those of Irem, filled with 
all manner of delights, but hidden from the e3 T es of mortals? " 

" O wise son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed Aben Habuz, trem- 
bling with eagerness — ' w Contrive me such a paradise, and ask 
any reward, even to the half of my kingdom." 

"Alas," replied the other, u thou knowest I am an old man, 
and a philosopher, and easily satisfied ; all the reward I ask, is 
the first beast of burden, with its load, that shall enter the 
magic portal of the palace." 

The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stipulation, and 
the astrologer began his work. On the summit of the hill im- 
mediately above his subterranean hermitage he caused a great 
gateway or barbican to be erected ; opening through the centre 
of a strong tower. There was an outer vestibule or porch with 
a loft}" arch, and within it a portal secured by massive gates. 
On the key-stone of the portal the astrologer, with his own 
hand, wrought the figure of a huge key, and on the key-stone 
of the outer arch of the vestibule, which was loftier than that 
of the portal, he carved a gigantic hand. These were potent 
talismans, over which he repeated many sentences in an un- 
known tongue. 

When this gateway was finished, he shut himself up for two 
days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incantations ; 
on the third he ascended the hill, and passed the whole day on 
its summit. At a late hour of the night, he came down and 
presented himself before Aben Habuz. li At length, O king," 
said he, " my labor is accomplished. On the summit of tb-« 



84 THE ALHAMBEA. 

hill stands one of the most delectable palaces that ever the 
head of man devised, or the heart of man desired. It contains 
sumptuous halls and galleries, delicious gardens, cool fountains 
and fragrant baths ; in a word, the whole mountain is con- 
verted into a paradise. Like the garden of Irem, it is protected 
by a mighty charm, which hides it from the view and search of 
mortals, excepting such as possess the secret of its talismans." 

u Enough," cried Aben Habuz, joyfully ; " to-morrow morn- 
ing, bright and early, we will ascend and take possession." 
The happy monarch scarcely slept that night. Scarcely had 
the rays of the sun begun to pla}' about the snowy summit of 
the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his steed, and accom- 
panied only by a few chosen attendants, ascended a steep and 
narrow road leading up the hill. Beside him on a white palfrey, 
rode the Gothic princess, her dress sparkling with jewels, 
while round her neck was suspended her silver lyre. The 
astrologer walked on the other side of the king, assisting his 
steps with his hieroglyphic staff, for he never mounted steed of 
any kind. 

Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the promised palace 
brightening above him, and the embowered terraces of its gar- 
dens stretching along the heights, but as yet, nothing of the 
kind was to be descried. " That is the mystery and safeguard 
of the place," said the astrologer, "nothing can be discerned 
until you have passed the spell-bound gateway, and been put 
in possession of the place." 

As they approached the gateway, the astrologer paused, and 
pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved upon 
the portal and the arch. " These," said he, " are the talismans 
which guard the entrance to this paradise. Until yonder hand 
shall reach down and seize that key, neither mortal power, nor 
magic artifice, can prevail against the lord of this mountain." 

While Aben Habuz was gazing with open mouth and silent 
wonder at these mystic talismans, the palfrey of the princess 
proceeded on, and bore her in at the portal, to the very centre 
of the barbican. 

tk Behold," cried the astrologer, "my promised reward! — 
the first animal with its burden, that should enter the magic 
gateway." 

Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry of 
the ancient man ; but when he found him to be in earnest, his 
gray beard trembled with indignation. 

" Son of Abu Ay ub,' said he, sternly, " what equivocation is 
this? Thou knowest the meaning of my promise, the first 



THE LEGEND OF THE ABABIAN ASTROLOGER. 85 

beast of burden, with its load, that should enter this portal. 
Take the strongest mule in my stables, load it with the most 
precious things of my treasur} r , and it is thine ; but dare not to 
raise thy thoughts to her, who is the delight of my heart." 

"What need I of wealth," cried the astrologer, scornfully ; 
" have I not the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise, and 
through it, the command of the secret treasures of the earth? 
The princess is mine by right ; thy royal word is pledged ; I 
claim her as my own." 

The princess sat upon her palfrey, in the pride of 3-outh and 
beauty, and a light smile of scorn curled her rosy lip, at this 
dispute between two graybeards for her charms. The wrath 
of the monarch got the better of his discretion. " Base son of 
the desert," cried he, " thou mayest be master of many arts, 
but know me for thy master — and presume not to judge with 
thy king." 

"My master!" echoed the astrologer, " my king! The 
monarch of a mole-hill to claim sway over him who possesses the 
talismans of Solomon. Farewell, Aben Habuz ; reign over thy 
petty kingdom, and revel in thy paradise of fools — for me, I 
will laugh at thee in my philosophic retirement." 

So saying, he seized the bridle of the palfrey, smote the earth 
with his staff, and sank with the Gothic princess through the 
centre of the barbican. The earth closed over them, and no 
trace remained of the opening by which they had descended. 
Aben Habuz was struck dumb for a time with astonishment. 
Recovering; himself he ordered a thousand workmen to cliff with 
pickaxe and spade into the ground where the astrologer had 
disappeared. They digge dand digged, but in vain ; the flinty 
bosom of the hill resisted their implements ; or if they did pen- 
etrate a little way, the earth filled in again as fast as they 
threw it out. Aben Habuz sought the mouth of the cavern at 
the foot of the hill, leading to the subterranean palace of the 
astrologer, but it was nowhere to be found : where once had 
been an entrance, was now a solid surface of primeval rock. 
With the disappearance of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ceased the 
benefit of his talismans. The bronze horseman remained fixed 
with his face turned toward the hill, and his spear pointed to 
the spot where the astrologer had descended, as if there still 
lurked the deadliest foe of Aben Habuz. From time to time the 
sound of music and the tones of a female voice could be faintly 
heard from the bosom of the hill, and a peasant one day 
brought word to the king, that in the preceding night he had 
found a fissure in the rock, by which he had crept in until he 



86 THE ALHAMBRA. 

looked clown into a subterranean hall, in which sat the astrolo- 
ger on a magnificent divan, slumbering and nodding to the sil- 
ver lyre of the princess, which seemed to hold a magic sway 
over his senses. 

Aben Habuz sought •for the fissure in the rock, but it was 
again closed. He renewed the attempt to unearth his rival, 
but all in vain. The spell of the hand and key was too potent 
to be counteracted by human power. As to the summit of the 
mountain, the site of the promised palace and garden, it re- 
mained a naked waste : either the boasted Elysium was hidden 
from sight by enchantment ; or was a mere fable of the astrolo- 
ger. The world charitably supposed the latter, and some used 
to call the place " the king's foil} 7 ," while others named it 
"the fool's Paradise." 

To add to the chagrin of Aben Habuz, the neighbors, whom 
he had defied and taunted, and cut up at his leisure, while master 
of the talismanic horseman, finding him no longer protected by 
magic spell, made inroads into his territories from all sides, and 
the remainder of the life of the most pacific of monarchs, was a 
tissue of turmoils. 

At length, Aben Habuz died and was buried. Ages have 
since rolled away. The Alhambra has been built on the event- 
ful mountain, and in some measure realizes the fabled delights 
of the garden of Irem. The spell-bound gateway still exists, 
protected, no doubt, by the mystic hand and key, and now 
forms the gate of justice, the grand entrance to the fortress. 
Under that gateway, it is said, the old astrologer remains in his 
subterranean hall; nodding on his divan, lulled b} T the silver 
lyre of the princess. 

The old invalid sentinels, who mount guard at the gate, hear 
the strains occasionally in the summer nights, and, yielding to 
their soporific power, doze quietly at their posts. Nay, so 
drowsy an influence pervades the place, that even those who 
watch by day, ma} T generally be seen nodding on the stone 
benches of the barbican, or sleeping under the neighboring 
trees ; so that it is, in fact, the drowsiest military post in all 
Christendom. All this, say the legends, will endure ; from age 
to age the princess will remain captive to the astrologer, and 
the astrologer bound up in magic slumber by the princess-, 
until the la.st day ; unless the mystic hand shall grasp the fated 
key, and dispel the whole charm of this enchanted mountain. 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BE A UTIFUL PRINCESSES. 87 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 

In old times there reigned a Moorish king in Granada, whose 
name was Mohamed, to which his subjects added the appella- 
tion of el Haygari, or, u the left-handed." Some say he was 
so called, on account of his being really more expert with his 
sinister, than his dexter hand ; others, because he was prone to 
take every thing by the wrong end ; or, in other words, to mar 
wherever he meddled. Certain it is, either through misfortune 
or mismanagement, he was* continually in trouble. Thrice was 
he driven from his throne, and on one occasion barely escaped 
to Africa with his life, in the disguise of a fisherman. Still he 
was as brave as he was blundering, and, though left-handed, 
wielded his cimeter to such purpose, that he each time re-estab- 
lished himself upon his throne, by dint of hard fighting. In- 
stead, however, of learning wisdom from adversity, he hardened 
his neck, and stiffened his left-arm in wilfulness. The evils 
of a public nature which he thus brought upon himself and his 
kingdom, may be learned by those who will delve into the Ara- 
bian annals of Granada ; the present legend deals but with his 
domestic policy. 

As this Mohamed was one da}' riding forth, with a train of 
his courtiers, by the foot of the mountain of Elvira, he met a 
band of horsemen returning from a foray into the land of the 
Christians. They were conducting a long string of mules laden 
with spoil, and many captives of both sexes, among whom, the 
monarch was struck with the appearance of a beautiful damsel 
richly attired, who sat weeping, on a low palfrey, and heeded 
not the consoling words of a duenna, who rode beside her. 

The monarch was struck with her beauty, and on inquiring 
of the captain of the troop, found that she was the daughter of 
the alcayde of a frontier fortress that had been surprised and 
sacked in the course of the foray. 

Mohamed claimed her as his royal share of the booty, and 
had her conveyed to his harem in the Alhambra. There every 
thing was devised to soothe her melancholy, and the monarch, 
more and more enamoured, sought to make her his queen. 

The Spanish maid at first repulsed his addresses. He was 
an infidel — he was the open foe of her country — what was 
worse, he was stricken in years ! 

The monarch, finding his assiduities of no avail, determined 
to enlist in his favor the duenna, who' had been captured with 



88 THE ALHAMBRA. 

the lady. She was an Andalusian by birth, whose Christian 
name is forgotten, being mentioned in Moorish legends, by no 
other appellation than that of the discreet Cadiga — and dis- 
creet, in truth she was, as her whole history makes evident. 
No sooner had the Moorish king held a little private conversa- 
tion with her, than she saw at once the cogency of his reason- 
ing, and undertook his cause with her young mistress. 

" Go to, now ! " cried she ; " what is there in all this to 
weep and wail about ? — Is it not better to be mistress of this 
beautiful palace with all its gardens and fountains, than to be 
shut up within your father's old frontier tower? As to this 
Mohamed being an infidel — what is that to the purpose ? 
You marry him — not his religion. And if he is waxing a little 
old, the sooner will you be a widow and mistress of yourself. 
At any rate you are in his power — and must either be a queen 
or a slave. — When in the hands of a robber, it is better to sell 
one's merchandise for a fair price, than to have it taken by 
main force." 

The arguments of the discreet Cadiga prevailed. The Span- 
ish lad} 7 dried her tears and became the spouse of Mohamed the 
left-handed. She even conformed in appearance to the faith 
of her royal husband, and her discreet duenna immediately 
became a zealous convert to the Moslem doctrines ; it was then 
the latter received the Arabian name of Cadiga, and was per- 
mitted to remain in the confidential employ of her mistress. 

In due process of time, the Moorish king was made the 
proud and happy father of three lovely daughters, all born at a 
birth. He could have wished they had been sons, but consoled 
himself with the idea that three daughters at a birth, were pretty 
well for a man somewhat stricken in years, and left-handed. 

As usual with all Moslem monarchs, he summoned his astrol- 
ogers on this happy event. They cast the nativities of the 
three princesses, and shook their heads. " Daughters, O king," 
said they, "are always precarious property; but these will 
most need your watchfulness when they arrive at a marriage- 
able age. — At that time gather them under your wing, and 
trust them to no other guardianship." 

Mohamed the left-handed was acknowledged by his courtiers 
to be a wise king, and was certainty so considered by himself. 
The prediction of the astrologers caused him but little disquiet, 
trusting to his ingenuit} r to guard his daughters and outwit the 
fates. 

The threefold birth was the last matrimonial trophy of the 
monarch ; his queen bore him no more children, and died within 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 89 

a few years, bequeathing her infant daughters to his love, and 
to the fidelity of the discreet Cadiga. 

Man} 7 years had yet to elapse before the princesses would 
arrive at that period of danger, the marriageable age. "It is 
good, however, to be cautious in time," said the shrewd mon- 
arch ; so he determined to have them reared in the royal castle 
of Salobrena. This was a sumptuous palace, incrusted as it 
were in a powerful Moorish fortress, on the summit of a hill 
that overlooks the Mediterranean sea. 

It was a royal retreat, in which the Moslem monarchs shut 
up such of their relations as might endanger their safety ; allow- 
ing them all kinds of luxuries and amusements, in the midst of 
which the}' passed their lives in voluptuous indolence. 

Here the princesses remained, immured from the world, but 
surrounded by enjoyments ; and attended by female slaves who 
anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens for their 
recreation, filled with the rarest fruits and flowers, with aromatic 
groves and perfumed baths. On three sides the castle looked 
down upon a rich valley, enamelled with all kinds of culture, 
and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra mountains ; on the other 
side it overlooked the broad sunny sea. 

In this delicious abode, in a propitious climate and under a 
cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into wondrous beauty ; 
but, though all reared alike, they gave early tokens of diversity 
of character. Their names were Za} 7 da, Zorayda, and Zora- 
hayda ; and such was the order of seniority, for there had been 
precisely three minutes between their births. 

Zaycla, the eldest, was of an intrepid spirit, and took the lead 
of her sisters in every thing, as she had done in entering first 
into the world. She was curious and inquisitive, and fond of 
getting at the bottom of things. 

Zorayda had a great feeling for beauty, which was the reason, 
no doubt, of her delighting to regard her own image in a mirror 
or a fountain, and of her fondness for flowers and jewels, and 
other tasteful ornaments. 

As to Zorahayda, the youngest, she was soft and timid, and 
extremely sensitive, with a vast deal of disposable tenderness, 
as was evident from her number of pet flowers, and pet birds, 
and pet animals, all of which she cherished with the fondest 
care. Her amusements, too, were of a gentle nature, and 
mixed up with musing and reverie. She would sit for hours in 
a balcony gazing on the sparkling stars of a summer night ; or 
on the sea when lit up by the moon, and at such times the song 
of a fisherman faintly heard from the beach, or the notes of an 



90 THE ALHAMBBA. 

arrafia or Moorish flute from some gliding bark, sufficed to ele- 
vate her feelings into ecstasy. The least uproar of the elements, 
however, filled her with dismay, and a clap of thunder was 
enough to throw her into a swoon. 

Years moved on serenel} T , and Cadiga, to whom the princesses 
were confided, was faithful to her trust and attended them with 
unremitting care. 

The castle of Salobrena, as has been said, was built upon a 
hill on the sea coast. One of the exterior walls straggled down 
the profile of the hill, until it reached a jutting rock overhanging 
the sea, with a narrow sandy beach at its foot, laved by the 
rippling billows. A small watch tower on this rock had been 
fitted up as a pavilion, with latticed windows to admit the sea 
breeze. Here the princesses used to pass the sultry hours of 
mid-day. 

The curious Zayda was one day seated at one of the windows 
of the pavilion, as her sisters, reclined on ottomans, were tak- 
ing the siesta, or noontide slumber. Her attention had been 
attracted to a galley, which came coasting along, with measured 
strokes of the oar. • As it drew near, she observed that it was 
filled with armed men. The galley anchored at the foot? of the 
tower : a number of Moorish soldiers landed on the narrow 
beach, conducting several Christian prisoners. The curious 
Zayda awakened her sisters, and all three peeped cautiously 
through the close jalousies of the lattice, which screened them 
from sight. Among the prisoners were three Spanish cavaliers, 
richly dressed. They were in the flower of youth, and of noble 
presence, and the lofty manner in which they carried them- 
selves, though loaded with chains and surrounded with enemies, 
bespoke the grandeur of their souls. The princesses gazed 
with intense and breathless interest. Cooped up as they had 
been in this castle among female attendants, seeing nothing of 
the male sex but black slaves, or the rude fishermen of the sea 
coast, it is not to be wondered at, that the appearance of three 
gallant cavaliers in the pride of youth and manly beauty should 
produce some commotion in their bosoms. 

4k Did ever nobler being tread the earth, than that cavalier in 
crimson?" cried Zayda, the eldest of the sisters. "See how 
proudly he bears himself, as though all around him were his 
slaves ! " 

" But notice that one in green," exclaimed Zorayda ; " what 
grace ! what elegance ! what spirit ! " 

The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she secretly gave 
preference to the cavalier in blue. 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 91 

The princesses remained gazing until the prisoners were out 
of sight ; then heaving long-drawn sighs, they turned round, 
looked at each other for a moment, and sat down musing and 
pensive on their ottomans. 

The discreet Cacliga found them in this situation ; they re- 
lated to her what they had seen, and even the withered hgart 
of the duenna was warmed. " Poor youths i " exclaimed she, 
"I'll warrant their captivity makes many a fair and high-born 
lady's heart ache in their native land! Ab, my children, you 
have little idea of the life these cavaliers lead in their own 
country. Such prankling at tournaments ! such devotion to the 
ladies ! such courting and serenading ! " 

The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused. She was insati- 
able in her inquiries, and drew from the duenna the most ani- 
mated pictures of the scenes of her youthful days and native 
land. The beautiful Zora} 7 da bridled up, and slyly regarded 
herself in a mirror, when the theme turned upon the charms of 
the Spanish ladies ; while Zorahaycla suppressed a struggling 
sigh at the mention of moonlight serenades. 

Every day the curious Zayda renewed her inquiries ; and 
every da}* the sage duenna repeated her stories, which were lis- 
tened to with unmoved interest, though frequent sighs, by her 
gentle auditors. The discreet old woman at length awakened 
to the mischief she might be doing. She had been accustomed 
to think of the princesses only as children, but they had imper- 
ceptibly ripened beneath her eye, and now bloomed before her 
three lovely damsels of the marriageable age. — It is time, 
thought the duenna, to give notice to the king. 

Mohamed the left-handed was seated one morning on a divan 
in one of the court halls of the Alhambra, when a noble arrived 
from the fortress of Salobreha, with a message from the sage 
Cadiga, congratulating him on the anniversary of his daughters' 
birth-day. The slave at the same time presented a delicate lit- 
tle basket decorated with flowers, within which, on a couch of 
vine and fig leaves, lay a peach, an apricot, and a nectarine, with 
their bloom and down, and dewy sweetness upon them, and all 
in the early stage of tempting ripeness. The monarch was 
versed in the Oriental language of fruits and flowers, and read- 
ily divined the meaning of this emblematical offering. 

"So," said he, "the critical period pointed out by the as- 
trologers is arrived. — My daughters are at a marriageable age. 
What is to be done ? They are shut up from the eyes of men, — 
they are under the eye of the discreet Cadiga — all very good — ■ 
but still they are not under my own eye, as was prescribed by 



92 THE ALHAMBBA. 

the astrologers. — ' I must gather them under my wing, and 
trust to no other guardianship.' " 

So sa} 7 ing, he ordered that a tower of the Alliambra should 
be prepared for their reception, and departed at the head of 
his guards for the fortress of Salobrena, to conduct them home 
in person. 

About three years had elapsed since Mohamed had beheld 
his daughters, and he could scarcely credit his e3*es at the won- 
derful change which that small space of time had made in their 
appearance. During the interval they had passed that won- 
drous boundary line in female life, which separates the crude, 
unformed, and thoughtless girl from the blooming, blushing, 
meditative woman. It is like passing from the flat, bleak, un- 
interesting plains of La Mancha to the voluptuous valleys and 
swelling hills of Andalusia. 

Zayda was tall and finely formed, with a lofty demeanor and 
a penetrating eye. She entered with a stately and decided step, 
and made a profound reverence to Mohamed, treating him more 
as her sovereign than her father. Zorayda was of the middle 
height, with an alluring look and swimming gait, and a spark- 
ling beauty heightened by the assistance of the toilet. She 
approached her father with a smile, kissed his hand, and saluted 
him with several stanzas from a popular Arabian poet, with 
which the monarch was delighted. Zorahayda was shy and 
timid ; smaller than her sisters, and with a beauty of that 
tender, beseeching kind which looks for fondness and protec- 
tion. She was little fitted to command like her elder sister, or 
to dazzle like the second ; but was rather formed to creep to 
the bosom of manly affection, to nestle within it, and be con- 
tent. She drew near her father with a timid and almost falter- 
ing step, and would have taken his hand to kiss, but on looking 
up into his face, and seeing it beaming with a paternal smile, 
the tenderness of her nature broke forth, and she threw herself 
upon his neck. 

Mohamed, the left-handed, surveyed his blooming daughters 
with mingled pride and perplexity ; for while he exulted in their 
charms, he bethought himself of the prediction of the astrolo- 
gers. "Three daughters! — three daughters!" muttered he, 
repeatedly to himself, " and all of a marriageable age ! Here's 
tempting hesperian fruit, that requires a dragon watch ! ' 

He prepared for his return to Granada, by sending heralds 
before him, commanding every one to keep out of the road by 
which he was to pass, and that all doors and windows should 
be closed at the approach of the princesses. This done, he set 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BE A UTIFUL PRINCESSES. 93 

forth escorted by a troop of black horsemen of hideous aspect, 
and clad in shining armor. 

The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on beauti- 
ful white palfreys, with velvet caparisons embroidered with 
gold, and sweeping the ground ; the bits and stirrups were of. 
gold, and the silken bridles adorned with pearls and precious 
stones. The palfreys were covered with little silver bells that 
made the most musical tinkling as they ambled gently along. 
Woe to the unlucky wight, however, who lingered in the way 
when he heard the tinkling of these bells — the guards were 
ordered to cut him down without mercy. 

The cavalcade was drawing near to Granada, when it over- 
took, on the banks of the river Xenil, a small body of Moorish 
soldiers, with a convoy of prisoners. It was too late for the 
soldiers to get out of the way, so they threw themselves on 
their faces on the earth, ordering their captives to do the like. 
Among the prisoners, were the three identical cavaliers whom 
the princesses had seen from the pavilion. They either did 
not understand, or were too haughty to obey the order, and 
remained standing and gazing upon the cavalcade as it ap- 
proached. 

The ire of the monarch was kindled at this flagrant defiance 
of his orders, and he determined to punish it with his own 
hand. Drawing his cimeter and pressing forward, he was 
about to deal a left-handed blow, that would have been fatal 
to at least one of the gazers, when the princesses crowded round 
him, and implored mercy for the prisoners; even the timid 
Zoraha} T da forgot her shyness and became eloquent in their 
behalf. Mohamed paused, with uplifted cimeter, when the 
captain of the guard threw himself at his feet. " Let not your 
majesty," said he, "do a deed that may cause great scandal 
throughout the kingdom. These are three brave. and noble 
Spanish knights who have been taken in battle, fighting like 
lions ; they are of high birth, and may bring great ransoms." 

"Enough," said the king; "I will spare their lives, but 
punish their audacity — let them be taken to the Vermilion 
towers and put to hard labor." 

Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed blunders. 
In the tumult and agitation of this blustering scene, the veils 
of the three princesses had been thrown back, and the radiance 
of their beauty revealed ; and in prolonging the parley, the 
king had given that beauty time to have its full effect. In 
those days, people fell in love much more suddenly than at 
present, as all ancient stories make manifest ; it is not a matter 



94 THE ALHAMBRA. 

of wonder, therefore, that the hearts of the three cavaliers were 
completely captivated ; especially as gratitude was added to 
their admiration :,it is a little singular, however, though no less 
certain, that each of them was enraptured with a several beauty. 
As to the princesses, they were more than ever struck with the 
noble demeanor of the captives, and cherished in their hearts 
all that they had heard of their valor and noble lineage. 

The cavalcade resumed its march ; the three princesses rode 
pensively along on their tinkling palfreys, now and then stealing 
a glance behind in search of the Christian captives, and the 
latter were conducted to their allotted prison in the Vermilion 
towers. 

The residence provided for the princesses, was one of the 
most dainty that fancy could devise. It was in a tower some- 
what apart from the main palace of the Alhambra, though con- 
nected with it by the main wall that encircled the whole summit 
of the hill. On one side it looked into the interior of the 
fortress, and had at its foot a small garden filled with the rarest 
flowers. On the other side it overlooked a deep embowered 
ravine, that separated the grounds of the Alhambra from those 
of the Generaliffe. The interior of the tower was divided into 
small fairy apartments, beautifully ornamented in the light 
Arabian style, surrounding a lofty hall, the vaulted roof of 
which rose almost to the summit of the tower. The walls and 
ceiling of the hall were adorned with arabesques and fretwork 
sparkling with gold, and with brilliant pencilling. In the centre 
of the marble pavement, was an alabaster fountain, set round 
with aromatic shrubs and flowers, and throwing up a jet of 
water that cooled the whole edifice and had a lulling sound. 
Round the hall were suspended cages of gold and silver wire, 
containing singing birds of the finest plumage or sweetest note. 

The princesses having been represented as alwa}*s cheerful 
when in the castle of Salobreila, the king had expected to see 
them enraptured with the Alhambra. To his surprise, however, 
they began to pine, and grew green and melancholy, and dis- 
satisfied with every thing around them. The flowers 3 7 ielded 
them no fragrance ; the sons' of the nightingale disturbed their 
night's rest, and they were out of all patience with the alabaster 
fountain, with its eternal drop, drop, and splash, splash, from 
morning till night, and from night till morning. 

The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyrannical old man, 
took this at first in high dudgeon ; but he reflected that his 
daughters had arrived at an age when the female mind expands 
and its desires augment. " The}* are no longer children," said 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BE A UTIFUL PRINCESSES. 95 

he to himself; " they are women grown, and require suitable 
objects to interest them. " He put in requisition, therefore, all 
the dressmakers, and the jewellers, aud the artificers in gold 
and silver throughout the Zacatin of Granada, and the prin- 
cesses were overwhelmed with robes of silk, and of tissue and 
of brocade, and cashmere shawls, and necklaces of pearls, and 
diamonds, and rings, and bracelets, and anklets, and all manner 
of precious things. 

AJJ, however, was of no avail. The princesses continued 
pale and languid in the midst of their finery, and looked like 
three blighted rosebuds, drooping from one stalk. The king 
was at his wit's end. He had in general a laudable confidence 
in his own judgment, aud never took advice. " The whims 
and caprices of three marriageable damsels, however, are suffi- 
cient," said he, "to puzzle the shrewdest head." — So, for 
once in his life, he called in the aid of counsel. 

The person to whom he applied was the experienced duenna. 

" Cadiga," said the king, "I know you to be one of the 
most discreet women in the whole world, as well as one of the 
most trustworthy ; for these reasons, I have alwa} T s continued 
} t ou about the persons of my daughters. Fathers cannot be too 
wary in whom they repose such confidence. I now wish }'Ou to 
find out the secret malady that is preying upon the princesses, 
and to devise some means of restoring them to health and 
cheerfulness." 

Cadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact, she knew more 
of the malady of the princesses than they did themselves. Shut- 
ting herself up with them, however, she endeavored to insinuate 
herself into their confidence. 

u My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal and 
downcast, in so beautiful a place, where you have every thing 
that heart can wish ? ' ' 

The princesses looked vacantly round the apartment, and 
sighed. 

"What more, then, would you have? Shall I get you the 
wonderful parrot that talks all languages, and is the delight of 
Granada? " 

"Odious!" exclaimed the princess Zayda. "A horrid 
screaming bird that chatters words without ideas ! One must 
be without brains to tolerate such a pest." 

" Shall I send for a monkey from the rock of Gibraltar, to 
divert you with his antics? " 

" A monkey ! faugh ! " cried Zorajxla, " the detestable mimic 
of man. I hate the nauseous animal." 



96 THE ALII AM BE A. 

"What say yon to the famous black singer, Casern, from the 
royal harem in Morocco. They say he has a voice as fine as a 
woman's." 

"lam terrified at the sight of these black slaves," said the 
delicate Zorahayda ; " besides, I have lost all relish for music." 

"Ah, my child, you would not say so," replied the old 
woman, slyly, "had you heard the music I heard last evening, 
from the three Spanish cavaliers whom we met on our journey. 
— But bless me, children! what is the matter that you blush 
so, and are in such a flutter? " 

" Nothing, nothing, good mother, pray proceed." 

"Well — as I was passing by the Vermilion towers, last even- 
ing, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their day's labor. 
One was playing on the guitar so gracefully, and the others 
sang by turns — and they did it in such style, that the very 
guards seemed like statues or men enchanted. Allah forgive 
me, I could not help being moved at hearing the songs of my 
native country. — And then to see three such noble and hand- 
some youths in chains and slavery." 

Here the kind-hearted old woman could not restrain her tears. 

"Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a sight 
of these cavaliers," said Zayda. 

" I think," said Zorayda, " a little music would be quite re- 
viving." 

The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms round 
the neck of Cadiga. 

" Mercy on me ! " exclaimed the discreet old woman ; " what 
are you talking of, my children? Your father would be the 
death of us all, if he heard of such a thing. To be sure, these 
cavaliers are evidently well-bred and high-minded youths — but 
what of that ! they are the enemies of our faith, and you must 
not even think of them, but with abhorrence." 

There is an admirable intrepidity in the female will, particu- 
larly about the marriageable age, which is not to be deterred 
by dangers and prohibitions. The princesses hung round their 
old duenna, and coaxed and entreated, and declared that a 
refusal would break their hearts. What could she do? She 
was certainly the most discreet old woman in the whole world, 
and one of the most faithful servants to the king — but was she 
to see three beautiful princesses break their hearts for the mere 
tinkling of a guitar? Beside, though she had been so long 
among the Moors, and changed her faith, in imitation of her 
mistress, like a trusty follower, yet she was a Spaniard born, 
and had the lingerings of Christianity in her heart. So she set 



LEGEND OF TIIE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 97 

about to contrive how the wishes of the princesses might be 
gratified. 

The Christian captives confined in the Vermilion towers, were 
under the charge of a big-whiskered, broad-shouldered rene- 
gado, called Hussein Baba, who was reported to have a most 
itching palm. She went to him, privately, and slipping a broad 
piece of gold into his hand, "Hussein Baba," said she, "my 
mistresses, the three princesses, who are shut up in the tower, 
and in sad want of amusement, have heard of the musical 
talents of the three Spanish cavaliers, and are desirous of hear- 
ing a specimen of their skill. I am sure you are too kind- 
hearted to refuse them so innocent a graii^cation." 

" What, and to have my head set grinning over the gate of 
my own tower — for that would be the reward, if the king 
should discover it." 

' L No danger of an} T thing of the kind ; the affair may be 
managed so that the whim of the princesses may be gratified, 
and their father be never the wiser. You know the deep ravine 
outside of the walls, that passes immediately below the tower. 
Put these three Christians to work there, and at the intervals of 
their labor let them play and sing, as if for their own recreation. 
In this way, the princesses will be able to hear them from the 
windows of the tower, and you may be sure of their paying well 
for your compliance." 

As the good old woman concluded her harangue, she kindly 
pressed the rough hand of the renegado, and left within it an- 
other piece of gold. 

Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the three 
cavaliers were put to work in the ravine. During the noon- 
tide heat when their fellow laborers were sleeping in the shade, 
and the guard nodded drowsily at his post, they seated them- 
selves among the herbage at the foot of the tower, and sang 
a Spanish roundelay to the accompaniment of the guitar. 

The glen was deep, the tower was high, but their voices rose 
distinctly in the stillness of the summer noon. The princesses 
listened from their balcony ; they had been taught the Spanish 
language by their duenna, and were moved by the tenderness 
of the song. 

The discreet Cadiga, on the contrary, was terribly shocked. 
" Allah preserve us," cried she, " they are singing a love ditty 
addressed to yourselves, — did ever mortal hear of such au- 
dacity? I will run to the slave master and have them soundly 
bastinadoed." 

" What, bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for singing so 



98 TME ALTIAMBBA. 

charmingly?" The three beautiful princesses were filled with 
horror at the idea. With all her virtuous indignation, the good 
old woman w^s of a placable nature and easily appeased. Be- 
side, the music seemed to have a beneficial effect upon her 
young mistresses. A rosy bloom had already come to their 
cheeks, and their eyes began to sparkle. She made no further 
objection, therefore, to the amorous ditty of the cavaliers. 

When it was finished, the princesses remained silent for a 
time ; at length Zorayda took up a lute, and with a sweet, 
though faint and trembling voice, warbled a little Arabian air, 
the burden of which was, "The rose is concealed among her 
leaves, but she listens with delight to the song of the nightin- 
gale." 

From this time forward the cavaliers worked almost daily in 
the ravine. The considerate Hussein Baba became more and 
more indulgent, and daily more prone to sleep at his post. 
For some time a vague intercourse was kept up by popular 
songs and romances ; which in some measure responded to each 
other, and breathed the feelings of the parties. By degrees 
the princesses showed themselves at the balcony, when they 
could do so without being perceived by the guards. They con- 
versed with the cavaliers also by means of flowers, with the 
symbolical language of which they were mutually acquainted : 
the difficulties of their intercourse added to its charms, and 
strengthened the passion they had so singularly conceived ; for 
love delights to struggle with difficulties, and thrives the most 
hardily on the scantiest soil. 

The change effected in the looks and spirits of the princesses 
by this secret intercourse, surprised and gratified the left- 
handed king ; but no one was more elated than the discreet 
Cadiga, who considered it all owing to her able manage- 
ment. 

At length there was an interruption in this telegraphic cor- 
respondence, for several da} T s the cavaliers ceased to make 
their appearance in the glen. The three beautiful princesses 
looked out from the tower in vain. — In vain they stretched 
their swan-like necks from the balcony ; in vain they sang like 
captive nightingales in their cage ; nothing was to be seen of 
their Christian lovers, not a note responded from the groves. 
The discreet Cadiga sallied forth in quest of intelligence, and 
soon returned with a face full of trouble. " Ah, my children ! " 
cried she, " I saw what all this would come to, but you would 
have your way ; you may now hang up your lutes on the wil- 
lows. The Spanish cavaliers are ransomed by their families ; 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 99 

the}' are down in Granada, and preparing to return to their 
native country." 

The three beautiful princesses were in despair at the tidings. 
The fair Zayda was indignant at the slight put upon them, in 
being thus deserted without a parting word. Zorayda wrung her 
hands and cried, and looked in the glass, and wiped away her 
tears, and cried afresh. The gentle Zorahayda leaned over the 
balcony, and wept in silence, and her tears fell drop by drop, 
among the flowers of the bank where the faithless cavaliers 
had so often been seated. 

The discreet Cadiga did all in her power to soothe their sor- 
row. " Take comfort, my children," said she, " this is nothing 
when you are used to it. This is the wa} 7 of the world. Ah, 
when 3 7 ou are as old as I am, you will know how to value these 
men. I'll warrant these cavaliers have their loves among the 
Spanish beauties of Cordova and Seville, and will soon be sere- 
nading under their balconies, and thinking no more of the 
Moorish beauties in the Alhambra. — Take comfort, therefore, 
my children, and drive them from your hearts." 

The comforting words of the discreet Cadiga only redoubled 
the distress of the princesses, and for two da}^s they continued 
inconsolable. On the morning of the third, the good old woman 
entered their apartment all ruffling with indignation. 

" Who would have believed such insolence in mortal man? " 
exclaimed she, as soon as she could find words to express her- 
self ; " but I am rightly served for having connived at this de- 
ception of your worthy father — never talk more to me of your 
Spanish cavaliers." 

" Why, what has happened, good Cadiga?" exclaimed the 
princesses, in breathless anxiet} r . 

"What has happened? treason has happened! — or what is 
almost as bad, treason has been proposed — and to me — the 
f aithf ulest of subjects — the trustiest of duennas — yes, my chil- 
dren — the Spanish cavaliers have dared to tamper with me ; 
that I should persuade you to fly with them to Cordova, and 
become their wives." 

Here the excellent old woman covered her face with her 
hands, and gave way to a violent burst of grief and indignation. 

The three beautiful princesses turned pale and red, and trem- 
bled, and looked down ; and cast shy looks at each other, but 
said nothing : meantime, the old woman sat rocking backward 
and forward in violent agitation, and now and then breaking 
out into exclamations — " That ever I should live to be so in- 
sulted — I, the faithf ulest of servants ! " 



100 THE ALHAMBRA. 

At length the eldest princess, who had most spirit, and always 
took the lead, approached her, and laying her hand upon her 
shoulder — "Well, mother," said she, "supposing we were will- 
ing to fry with these Christian cavaliers — is such a thing pos- 
sible?" 

The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and look- 
ing up — " Possible ! " she echoed, u to be sure it is possible. 
Have not the cavaliers already bribed Hussein Baba, the rene- 
gado captain of the guard, and arranged the whole plan ? — 
But then to think of deceiving your father — your father, who 
has placed such confidence in me? " 

Here the worthy old woman gave way to a fresh burst of 
grief, and began again to rock backwards and forwards, and to 
wring her hands. 

" But our father has never placed any confidence in us," said 
the eldest princess; "but has trusted to bolts and bars, and 
treated us as captives." 

"Why, that is true enough," replied the old woman, again 
pausing in her grief — " He has indeed treated you most unrea- 
sonably. Keeping you shut up here to waste your bloom in a 
moping old tower, like roses left to wither in a flower jar. But 
then to fly from your native land." 

" And is not the land we fly to, the native land of our mother ; 
where we shall live in freedom? — and shall we not each have a 
youthful husband in exchange for a severe old father? " 

" Why, that again is all very true — and your father, I must 
confess, is rather tyrannical. — But what then" — relapsing 
into her grief — " would you leave me behind to bear the brunt 
of his vengeance ? ' ' 

" By no means, my good Cadiga. Cannot you fly with us? " 

u y er y true, my child, and to tell the truth, when I talked 
the matter over with Hussein Baba, he promised to take care 
of me if 1 would accompany you in your flight : but then, be- 
think you, m}* children ; are you willing to renounce the faith 
of your father? " 

" The Christian faith was the original faith of our mother," 
said the eldest princess ; * ' I am ready to embrace it ; and so I 
am sure are my sisters." 

" Right again ! " exclaimed the old woman, brightening up. 
' ' It was the original faith of your mother ; and bitterly did she 
lament, on her death-bed, that she had renounced it. I prom- 
ised her then to take care of your souls, and I am rejoiced to 
see that they are now in a fair way to be saved. Yes, my chil- 
dren ; I too was born a Christian — and have always been a 



LEGEND OF THE TIIEEE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 101 

Christian in my heart ; and am resolved to return to the faith. 
I have talked on the subject with Hussein Baba, who is a Span- 
iard by birth, and comes from a place not far from my native 
town. He is equally anxious to see his own country and to be 
reconciled to the church, aud the cavaliers have promised that 
if we are disposed to become man and wife on returning to our 
native land, they will provide for us handsomely." 

In a word, it appeared that this extremely discreet and provi- 
dent old woman had consulted with the cavaliers and the rene- 
gado, and hacLconcerted the whole plan of escape. The eldest 
princess immediately assented to it, and her example as usual 
determined the conduct of her sisters. It is true, the youngest 
hesitated, for she was gentle and timid of soul, and there was 
a struggle in her bosom between filial feeling and youthful 
passion. The latter however, as usual, gained the victory, and 
with silent tears and stifled sighs she prepared herself for flight. 

The rugged hill on which the Alhambra is built was in old 
times perforated with subterranean passages, cut through the 
rock, and leading from the fortress to various parts of the city, 
and to distant sally-ports on the banks of the Darro and 
the Xenil. They had been constructed at different times, by the 
Moorish kings, as means of escape from sudden insurrection, or 
of secretly issuing forth on private enterprises. Many of them 
are now entirely lost, while others remain, partly choked up 
with rubbish, and partly walled up — monuments of the jealous 
precautions aud warlike stratagems of the Moorish government. 
By one of these passages, Hussein Baba had undertaken to 
conduct the princesses to a sally-port beyond the walls of the 
city, where the cavaliers were to be ready with fleet steeds to 
bear them all over the borders. 

The appointed night arrived. The tower of the princesses 
had been locked up as usual, and the Alhambra was buried in 
deep sleep. Towards midnight the discreet Cadiga listened 
from a balcony of a window that looked into the garden. 
Hussein Baba, the renegado, was already below, and gave the 
appointed signal. The duenna fastened the end of a ladder of 
ropes to the balcony, lowered it into the garden, and descended. 
The two eldest princesses followed her with beating hearts ; but 
when it came to the turn of the youngest princess, Zorahayda, 
she hesitated and trembled. Several times she ventured a deli- 
cate little foot upon the ladder, and as often drew it back ; 
while her poor little heart fluttered more and more the longer 
she delayed. She cast a wistful look back into the silken cham- 
ber ; she had lived in it, to be sure, like a bird in a cage, but 



102 THE ALHAMBRA. 

within it she was secure — who could not tell what dangers 
might beset her should she flutter forth into the wide world? 
Now she bethought her of her gallant Christian lover, and her 
little foot was instantly upon the ladder, and anon she thought 
of her father, and shrunk back. But fruitless is the attempt to 
describe the conflict in the bosom of one so young, and tender, 
and lovino-, but so timid and so ignorant of the world. In vain 
her sisters implored, the duenna scolded, and the renegado 
blasphemed beneath the balcony. The gentle little Moorish 
rnafl stood doubting and wavering on the verge of elopement ; 
tempted by the sweetuess of the sin, but terrified at its perils. 

Every moment increased the danger of discovery. A distant 
tramp was heard. — "The patrols are walking the rounds," 
cried the renegado ; " if we linger longer we perish — princess, 
desceud instantly, or we leave 3'ou." ' 

Zorahayda was for a moment in fearful agitation, then loos- 
ening the ladder of ropes, with desperate resolution she flung 
it from the balcony. 

" It is decided," cried she, "'-' flight is now out of my power! 
— Allah guide and bless ye, my dear sisters ! " 

The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts of 
leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered, but the patrol 
was advancing ; the renegado was furious, and they were 
hurried away to the subterraneous passage. They groped their 
way through a fearful labyrinth cut through the heart of the 
mountain, and succeeded in reaching, undiscovered, an iron 
gate that opened outside of the walls. The Spanish cavaliers 
were waiting to receive them, disguised as Moorish soldiers of 
the guard commanded by the renegado. 

The lover of Zorahayda was frantic when he learned that she 
had refused to leave the tower ; but there was no time to waste 
in lamentations. The two princesses were placed behind their 
lovers ; the discreet Cadiga mounted behind the renegado, and 
all set off at a round pace in the direction of the pass of Lope, 
which leads through the mountains towards Cordova. 

The} 7 had not proceeded far when they heard the noise of 
drums and trumpets from the battlements of the Alhambra. 
"Our flight is discovered," said the renegado. "We have 
fleet steeds, the night is dark, and we may distance all pur- 
suit," replied the cavaliers. 

They put spurs to their horses and scoured across the Vega. 
They attained to the foot of the mountain of P^lvira, which 
stretches like a promontory into the plain. The renegado 
paused and listened. " As yet," said he, " there is no one on 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 103 

our traces, we shall make good our escape to the mountains." 
While he spoke a ball of fire sprang up in a light blaze on the 
top of the watch-tower of the Alhambra. 

kt Confusion ! " cried the renegado, " that fire will put all the 
guards of the passes on the alert. Awa} 7 , away, spur like mad ; 
there is no time to be lost." 

Away they dashed — the clattering of their horses' hoofs 
echoed from rook to rock as they swept along the road that 
skirts the rocky mountain of Elvira. As they galloped on, 
they beheld that the ball of fire of the Alhambra was answered 
in eveiy direction ; light after light blazed on the atalayas or 
watch-towers of the mountains. 

"Forward! forward!" cried the renegado, with many an 
oath — "to the bridge ! — to the bridge ! before the alarm has 
reached there." 

They doubled the promontory of the mountain, and arrived 
in sight of the famous Puente del Pinos, that crosses a rushing 
stream often dyed with Christian and Moslem blood. To their 
confusion the tower on the bridge blazed with lights and glit- 
tered with armed men. The renegado pulled up his steed, rose 
in his stirrups and looked about him for a moment, then beck- 
oning to the cavaliers he struck off from the road, skirted the 
river for some distance, and dashed into its waters. The cava- 
liers called upon the princesses to cling to them, and did the 
same. The} 7 were borne for some distance down the rapid cur- 
rent, the surges roared round them, but the beautiful princesses 
clung to their Christian knights and never uttered a complaint. 
The cavaliers attained the opposite bank in safety, and were 
conducted by the renegado, by rude and unfrequented paths, 
and wild barrancos through the heart of the mountains, so as 
to avoid all the regular passes. In a word, they succeeded in 
reaching the ancient city of Cordova ; when their restoration to 
their country and friends was celebrated with great rejoicings, 
for they were of the noblest families. The beautiful princesses 
were forthwith received into the bosom of the church, and after 
being in all due form made regular Christians, were rendered 
happy lovers. 

In our hurry to make good the escape of the princesses across 
the river and up the mountains, we forgot to mention the fate 
of the discreet Cadiga. She had clung like a cat to Hussein 
Baba, in the scamper across the Vega, screaming at every 
bound and drawing many an oath from the whiskered rene- 
gado ; but when he prepared to plunge his steed into the river 
her terror knew no bounds. 



104 THE ALHAMBRA. 

" Grasp nie not so tightly," cried Hussein Baba ; " hold on 
by my belt, and fear nothing." 

She held firmly with both hands by the leathern belt that 
girded the broad-backed renegado ; but when he halted with the 
cavaliers to take breath on the mountain summit, the duenna 
was no longer to be seen. 

u What has become of Cadiga?" cried the princesses in 
alarm. 

u I know not," replied the renegado. u My belt came loose 
in the midst of the river, and Cadiga was swept with it down 
the stream. The will of Allah be done ! — but it was an em- 
broidered belt and of great price ! " 

There was no time to waste in idle reports, yet bitterly did 
the princesses bewail the loss of their faithful and discreet 
counsellor. That excellent old woman, however, did not lose 
more than half of her nine lives in the stream. — A fisherman 
who was drawing his nets some distance down the stream, 
brought her to land and was not a little astonished at his 
miraculous draught. What farther became of the discreet 
Cadiga, the legend does not mention. — Certain it is, that she 
evinced her discretion in never venturing within the reach of 
Mohamed the left-handed. 

Almost as little is known of the conduct of that sagacious 
monarch, when he discovered the escape of his daughters and 
the deceit practised upon him by the most faithful of servants. 
It was the only instance in which he had called in the aid of 
counsel, and he was never afterwards known to be guilty of a 
similar weakness. He took good care, however, to guard his 
remaining daughter ; who had no disposition to elope. It is 
thought, indeed, that she secretly repented having remained 
behind. Now and then she was seen leaning on the battle- 
ments of the tower and looking mournfully towards the moun- 
tains, in the direction of Cordova ; and sometimes the notes of 
her lute were heard accompanying plaintive ditties, in which 
she was said to lament the loss of her sisters and her lover, and 
to bewail her solitary life. She died young, and, according to 
popular rumor, was buried in a vault beneath the tower, and 
her untimely fate has given rise to more than one traditionary 
fable. 

LOCAL TRADITIONS. 

The common people of Spain have an Oriental passion for 
story-telling and are fond of the marvellous. They will gather 



LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 105 

round the doors of their cottages on summer evenings, or in 
the great cavernous chimney corners of their ventas in the 
winter, and listen with insatiable delight to miraculous legends 
of saints, perilous adventures of travellers, and daring exploits 
of robbers and contrabandistas. The wild and solitary nature 
of a great part of Spain ; the inperfect state of knowledge ; the 
scantiness of general topics of conversation, and the romantic, 
adventurous life that every one leads in a land where travelling 
is yet in its primitive state, all contribute to ^cherish this love 
of oral narration, and to produce a strong expression of the 
extravagant and wonderful. There is no theme, however, more 
prevalent or popular than that of treasures buried by the Moors. 
It pervades the whole country. In traversing the wild Sierras, 
the scenes of ancient prey and exploit, you cannot see a Moor- 
ish atalaya or watch-tower perched among the cliffs, or beetling 
above its rock-built village, but your muleteer, on beiug closely 
questioned, will suspend the smoking of his cigarillo to tell 
some tale of Moslem gold buried beneath its foundations ; nor 
is there a ruined alcazar in a city, ftut has its golden tradition, 
handed down, from generation to generation, among the poor 
people of the neighborhood. 

These, like most popular fictions, have had some ground- 
work in fact. During the wars between Moor and Christian, 
which distracted the country for centuries, towns and castles 
were liable frequently and suddenly to change owners ; and the 
inhabitants, during sieges and assaults, were fain to bury their 
money and jewels in the earth, or hide them in vaults and wells, 
as is often done at the present day in the despotic and belliger- 
ent countries of the East. At the time of the expulsion of 
the Moors, also, many of them concealed their most precious 
effects, hoping that their exile would be but temporary, and 
that they would be enabled to return and retrieve their treasures 
at some future day. It is certain that, from time to time, 
hoards of gold and silver coin have been accidentally digged 
up, after a lapse of centuries, from among the ruins of Moorish 
fortresses and habitations, and it requires but a few facts of 
the kind to give birth to a thousand fictions. 

The stories thus originating have generally something of an 
Oriental tinge, and are marked with that mixture of the Arabic 
and Gothic which seems to me to characterize every thing in 
Spain ; and especially in its southern provinces. The hidden 
wealth is always laid under magic spell, and secured by charm 
and talisman. Sometimes it is guarded by uncouth monsters, 
or fiery dragons ; sometimes by enchanted Moors, who sit by 



106 THE ALHAMBRA. 

it in armor, with drawn swords, but motionless as statues, 
maintaining a sleepless watch for ages. 

The Alhambra, of course, from the peculiar circumstances of 
its history, is a stronghold for popular fictions of the kind, and 
curious relics, dug up from time to time, have contributed to 
strengthen them. At one time, an earthen vessel was found, 
containing Moorish coins and the skeleton of a cock, which, 
according to the opinion of shrewd inspectors, must have been 
buried alive. At another time, a vessel was digged up, con- 
taining a great scarabseus, or beetle, of baked clay, covered 
with Arabic inscriptions, which was pronounced a prodigious 
amulet of occult virtues. In this way the wits of the ragged 
brood who inhabit the Alhambra have been set wool gathering, 
until there is not a hall, or tower, or vault, of the old fortress 
that has not been made the scene of some marvellous tradition. 

I have already given brief notices of some related to me by 
the authentic Mateo Ximenes, and now subjoin one wrought 
out from various particulars gathered among the gossips of the 
fortress. 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 

Just within the fortress of the Alhambra, in front of the 
royal palace, is a broad open esplanade, called the place or 
square of the cisterns, (la plaza de los algibes,) so called from 
being undermined by reservoirs of water, hidden from sight, 
and which have existed from the time of the Moors. At one 
corner of this esplanade is a Moorish well, cut through the liv- 
ing rock to a great depth, the water of which is cold as ice and 
clear as crystal. The wells made by the Moors are always in 
repute, for it is well known what pains they took to penetrate 
to the purest and sweetest springs and fountains. The one we 
are speaking of is famous throughout Grauada, insomuch that 
the water-carriers, some bearing great water-jars on their shoul- 
ders, others driving asses before them, laden with earthen ves- 
sels, are ascending and descending the steep woody avenues of 
the Alhambra from early dawn until a late hour of the night. 

Fountains and wells, ever since the Scriptural days, have 
been noted gossiping places in hot climates, and at the well in 
question there is a kind of perpetual club kept up during the 
livelong day, by the invalids, old women, and other curious, 
dc nothing folk of the fortress, who sit here on the stone 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 107 

benches under an awning spread over the well to shelter the toll- 
gatherer from the sun, and dawdle over the gossip of the for- 
tress, and question any water-carrier that arrives about the news 
of the city, and make long comments on every thing they hear 
and see. Not an hour of the day but loitering housewives 
and idle maid-servants may be seen, lingering with pitcher on 
head or in hand, to hear the last of the endless tattle of these 
worthies. 

Among the water-carriers who once resorted to this well 
there was a sturdy, strong-backed, bandy-legged little fellow, 
named Pedro Gil, but called Peregil for shortness. Being a 
water-carrier, he was a Gallego, or native of Gallicia, of course. 
Nature seems to have formed races of men as she has of ani- 
mals for different kinds of drudgery. In France the shoeblacks 
are all Savoyards, the porters of hotels all Swiss, and in the clays 
of hoops and hair powder in England, no man could give the 
regular swing to a sedan chair, but a bog-trotting Irishman. 
So in Spain the carriers of water and bearers of burdens are all 
sturdy little natives of Gallicia. No man says, " get me a por- 
ter," but, " call a Gallego." 

To return from this digression. Peregil the Gallego had 
begun business with merely a great earthen jar, which he car- 
ried upon his shoulder ; by degrees he rose in the world, and 
was enabled to purchase an assistant of a correspondent class 
of animals, being a stout shaggy-haired donkey. On each side 
of this his long-eared aid-de-camp, in a kind of pannier, were 
slung his water-jars covered with fig leaves to protect them from 
the sun. There was not a more industrious water-carrier in all 
Granada, nor one more merry withal. The streets rang with his 
cheerful voice as he trudged after his donkey, singing forth the 
usual summer note that resounds through the Spanish towns : 
" quien quiere agua — agua mas fria que la nieve. — Who wants 
water — water colder than snow — who wants water from the 
well of the Alhambra — cold as ice and clear as crystal?" 
When he served a customer with a sparkling glass, it was always 
with a pleasant word that caused a smile, and if, perchance, it 
was a comely dame, or dimpling damsel, it was always with a 
sly leer and a compliment to her beauty that was irresistible. 
Thus Peregil the Gallego was noted throughout all Granada for 
being one of the civilest, pleasantest, and happiest of mortals. 
Yet it is not he who sings loudest and jokes most that has the 
lightest heart. Under all this air of merriment, honest Peregil 
had his cares and troubles. He had a large family of ragged 
children to support, who were hungry and clamorous as a nest 



108 THE ALHAMBRA. 

of young swallows, and beset him with their outcries for food 
whenever he came home of an evening. He had a helpmate, 
too, who was any thing but a help to him. She had been a 
village beauty before marriage, noted for her skill in dancing 
the bolero and rattling the castanets, and she still retained her 
early propensities, spending the hard earnings of honest Peregil 
in frippery, and laying the very donkey under requisition for 
junketing parties into the country on Sundays, and saints' 
days, and those innumerable holidays which are rather more 
numerous in Spain than, the days of the week. With all this 
ishe was a little of a slattern, something more of a lie-a-bed, 
and, above all, a gossip of the first water ; neglecting house, 
household, and every thing else, to loiter slip-shod in the houses 
of her gossip neighbors. 

He, however, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, ac- 
commodates the } T oke of matrimony to the submissive neck. 
Peregil bore all the heavy dispensations of wife and children 
with as meek a spirit as his donkey bore the water-jars ; and, 
however he might shake his ears in private, never ventured to 
question the household virtues of his slattern spouse. 

He loved his children too, even as an owl loves its owlets, 
seeing in them his own image multiplied and perpetuated, for 
they were a sturdy, long-backed, baixlv-legged little brood. 
The great pleasure of honest Peregil was, whenever he could 
afford himself a scanty holiday and had a handful of rnarave- 
dies to spare, to take the whole litter forth with him, some in 
his arms, some tugging at his skirts, and some trudging at his 
heels, and to treat them to a gambol among the orchards of 
the Vega, while his wife was dancing with her holiday friends 
in the angosturas of the Darro. 

It was a late hour one summer night, and most of the water- 
carriers had desisted from their toils. The day had been un- 
commonly sultry ; the night was one of those delicious moon- 
lights, which tempt the inhabitants of those southern climes to 
indemnify themselves for the heat and inaction of the day, by 
lingering in the open air and enjoying its tempered sweetness 
until after midnight. Customers for water were therefore still 
abroad. Peregil, like a considerate, painstaking little father, 
thought of his hungry children. ki One more journey to the 
well," said he to himself, " to earn a good Sunday's puchero 
for the little ones." So saying, he trudged rapidly up the steep 
avenue of the Alhambra, singing as he went, and now and then 
bestowing a hearty thwack with a cudgel on the flanks of his 
donkey, either by way of cadence to the song, or refreshment to 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 109 

the animal ; for dry blows serve in lien for provender in Spain, 
for all beasts of burden. 

When arrived at the well, he found it deserted by every one 
except a solitary stranger in Moorish garb, seated on the stone 
bench in the moonlight. Peregil paused at first, and regarded 
him with surprise, not unmixed with awe, but the Moor feebly 
beckoned him to approach. 

" I am faint and ill," said he ; " aid me to return to the city, 
and I will pay thee double what thou couldst gain by thy jars of 
w r ater." 

The honest heart of the little water-carrier was touched with 
compassion at the appeal of the stranger. "God forbid," said 
he, " that I should ask fee or reward for doing a common act 
of humanity." 

He accordingly helped the Moor on his donkey, and set off 
slowly for Granada, the poor Moslem being so weak that it was 
necessary to hold him on the animal to keep him from falling 
to the earth. 

When they entered the city, the water-carrier demanded 
wiiither he should conduct him. "Alas!" said the Moor, 
faintly, "I have neither home nor habitation. I am a stranger 
in the land. Suffer me to lay my head this night beneath th} T 
roof, and thou shall be amply repaid." 

Honest Peregil thus saw himself unexpectedly saddled with 
an infidel guest, but he was too humane to refuse a night's 
shelter to a fellow being in so forlorn a plight ; so he conducted 
the Moor to his dwelling. The children, who had sallied forth, 
open-mouthed as usual, on hearing the tramp of the donkey, 
ran back with affright, when they beheld the turbaned stranger, 
and hid themselves behind their mother. The latter stepped 
forth intrepidly, like a ruffling hen before her brood, Avhen a 
vagrant dog approaches. 

"What infidel companion," cried she, "is this you have 
brought home at this late hour, to draw upon us the e}~es of 
the Inquisition? " 

" Be quiet, wife," replied the Gallego, " here is a poor sick 
stranger, without friend or home : wouldst thou turn him forth 
to perish in the streets ? ' ' 

The wife would still have remonstrated, for, though she lived 
in a hovel, she was a furious stickler for the credit of her house ; 
the little water-carrier, however, for once was stiff-necked, and 
refused to bend beneath the yoke. He assisted the poor Mos- 
lem to alight, and spread a mat and a sheepskin for him, on the 
ground, in the coolest part of the house ; being the only kind cf 
bed that his povert3 T afforded. 



110 TRE ALRAMBRA. 

In a little while the Moor was seized with violent convulsions, 
which defied all the ministering skill of the simple water-carrier. 
The eye of the poor patient acknowledged his kindness. Dur- 
ing an interval of his fits he called him to his side, and address- 
ing him in a low voice ; " My end," said he, " I fear is at hand. 
If I die I bequeath yon this box as a reward for your charity." 
80 saying, he opened his albornoz, or cloak, and showed a 
small box of sandalwood, strapped round his body. 

"God grant, my friend," replied the worthy little Gallego, 
'• that you may live many years to enjoy your treasure, what- 
ever it may be." 

The Moor shook his head ; he laid his hand upon the box, 
and would have said something more concerning it, but his con- 
vulsions returned with increased violence, and in a little while 
he expired. 

The water-carrier's wife was now as one distracted. " This 
comes," said she, "of your foolish good nature, always running 
into scrapes to oblige others. What will become of us when 
this corpse is found in our house ? We shall be sent to prison 
as murderers ; and if we escape with our lives, shall be ruined 
by notaries and alguazils." 

Poor Peregil was in equal tribulation, and almost repented 
himself of having done a good deed. At length a thought 
struck him. "It is not yet day," said he. "I can convey 
the dead body out of the city and bury it in the sands on the 
banks of the Xenil. No one saw the Moor enter our dwelling, 
and no one will know any thing of his death." So said, so 
done. The wife aided him : they rolled the body of the un- 
fortunate Moslem in the mat on which he had expired, laid it 
across the ass, and Mattias set out with it for the banks of the 
river. 

As ill luck would have it, there lived opposite to the water- 
carrier a barber, named Pedrillo Peclrugo, one of the most 
prying, tattling, mischief-making, of his gossip tribe. He w T as 
a weasel-faced, spider-legged varlet, supple and insinuating ; 
the famous Barber of Seville could not surpass him for his 
universal knowledge of the affairs of others, and he had no 
more power of retention than a sieve. It was said that he slept 
with but one eye at a time, and kept one ear uncovered, so that, 
even in his sleep, he might see and hear all that was going 
on. Certain it is, he was a sort of scandalous chronicle for the 
quidnuncs of Granada, and had more customers than all the 
rest of his fraternity. 

This meddlesome barber heard Peregil arrive at an unusual 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. Ill 

hour of night, and the exclamations of his wife and children. 
His head was instantly popped out of a little window which 
served him as a lookout, and he saw his neighbor assist a man 
in a Moorish garb into his dwelling. This was so strange an 
occurrence that Fedrillo Pedrugo slept not a wink that night — 
eveiy five minutes he was at his loop-hole, watching the lights 
that gleamed through the chinks of his neighbor's door, and 
before daylight he beheld Peregil sally forth with his donkey 
unusually laden. 

The inquisitive barber was in a fidget ; he slipped on his 
clothes, and, stealing forth silently, followed the water-carrier 
at a distance, until he saw him dig a hole in the sandy bank 
of the Xenil, and bury something that had the appearance of 
a dead body. 

The barber hied him home and fidgeted about his shop, set- 
ting every thing upside down, until sunrise. He then took a 
basin under his arm, and sallied forth to the house of his daily 
customer, the Alcalde. 

The Alcalde was just risen. Pedrillo Pedrugo seated him in 
a chair, threw a napkin round his neck, put a basin of hot 
water under his chin, and began to mollify his beard with his 
fingers. 

" Strange doings," said Pedrugo, who played barber and 
newsmonger at the same time. "Strange doings! Robbery, 
and murder, and burial, all in one night ! " 

" Hey? how ! What is it you say? " cried the Alcalde. 

;t I say," replied the barber, rubbing a piece of soap over the 
nose and mouth of the dignitary, for a Spanish barber disdains 
to employ a brush ; " I say that Peregil the Gallego has robbed 
and murdered a Moorish Mussulman, and buried him this 
blessed night, — maldita sea la noche, — accursed be the night 
for the same ! " 

" But how do you know all this? " demanded the Alcalde. 

" Be patient, Senor, and you shall hear all about it," replied 
Pedrillo, taking him by the nose and sliding a razor over his 
cheek. He then recounted all that he had seen, going through 
both operations at the same time, shaving his beard, washing 
his chin, and wiping him dry with a dirty napkin, while he was 
robbing, murdering, and burying the Moslem. 

Now it so happened that this Alcalde was one of the most 
overbearing, and at the same time most griping and corrupt 
curmudgeons in all Granada. It could not be denied, however, 
that he set a high value upon justice, for he sold it at its weight 
in gold. He presumed the case in point to be one of murder 



112 THE ALHAMBRA. 

and robbery ; doubtless the remust be rich spoil ; how was it 
to be secured into the legitimate hands of the law? for as to 
merely entrapping the delinquent — that would be feeding the 
gallows : but entrapping the booty — that would be enriching 
the judge ; and such, according to his creed, was the great end 
of justice. So thinking, he summoned to his presence his 
trustiest alguazil ; a gaunt, hungry-looking varlet, clad, accord- 
ing to the custom of his order, in the ancient Spanish garb — a 
broad black beaver, turned up at the sides ; a quaint ruff, a 
small black cloak dangling from his shoulders ; rusty black 
under-clothes that set off his spare wiry form ; while in his 
hand he bore a slender white wand, the dreaded insignia of his 
office. Such was the legal bloodhound of the ancient Spanish 
breed, that he put upon the traces of the unlucky water-car- 
rier ; and such was his speed and certainty that he was upon 
the haunches of poor Peregil before he had returned to his 
dwelling, and brought both him and his donkey before the dis- 
penser of justice. 

The Alcalde bent upon him one of his most terrific frowns. 
" Hark ye, culprit," roared he in a voice that made the knees 
of the little Gallego smite together, — "Hark, ye culprit ! there 
is no need of denying thy guilt : every thing is known to me. 
A gallows is the proper reward for the crime thou hast commit- 
ted, but I am merciful, and readily listen to reason. The man 
that has been murdered in thy house was a Moor, an infidel, 
the enemy of our faith. It was doubtless in a fit of religious 
zeal that thou hast slain him. I will be indulgent, therefore ; 
render up the property of which thou hast robbed him, and we 
will hush the matter up." 

The poor water-carrier called upon all the saints to witness 
his innocence ; alas ! not one of them appeared, and if there 
had, the Alcalde would have disbelieved the whole calendar. 
The water-carrier related the whole story of the dying Moor 
with the straightforward simplicity of truth, but it was all in 
vain: "Wilt thou persist in saying," demanded the judge, 
" that this Moslem had neither gold nor jewels, which were the 
object of thy cupidity? " 

" As I hope to be saved, your worship," replied the water- 
carrier, " he had nothing but a small box of sandalwood, which 
he bequeathed to me in reward of my services." 

" A box of sandalwood ! a box of sandalwood ! " exclaimed 
the Alcalde, his eyes sparkling at the idea of precious jewels, 
" and where is the box? whore have you concealed it? ' : 

"An' it please your grace," replied the water-carrier, "it is 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 113 

in one of the panniers of my mule, and heartly at the service 
of your worship." 

He had hardly spoken the words when the keen alguazil 
darted off and reappeared in an instant with the mysterious 
box of sandalwood. The Alcalde opened it with an eager and 
trembling hand ; all pressed forward to gaze upon the treasures 
it was expected to contain ; when, to their disappointment, 
nothing appeared within but a parchment scroll, covered with 
Arabic characters, and an end of a waxen taper ! 

When there is nothing to be gained by the conviction of a 
prisoner, justice, even in Spain, is apt to be impartial. The 
Alcalde, having recovered from his disappointment and found 
there was really no booty in the case, now listened dispassion- 
ately to the explanation of the water-carrier, which was cor- 
roborated by the tesftmony of his wife. Being convinced, 
therefore, of his innocence, he discharged him from arrest ; nay 
more, he permitted him to carry off the Moor's legacy, the box 
of sandalwood and its contents, as the well-merited reward of 
his humanity ; but he retained his donkey in payment of cost 
and charges. 

Behold the unfortunate little Gallego reduced once more to 
the necessity of being his own water-carrier, and trudging up 
to the well of the Alhambra with a great earthen jar upon his 
shoulder. As he toiled up the hill in the heat of a summer noon 
his usual good-humor forsook him. w 'Dog of an Alcalde!" 
would he cry, " to rob a poor man of the means of his subsist- 
ence — of the best friend he had in the world ! " And then, at 
the remembrance of the beloved companion of his labors, all 
the kindness of his nature would break forth. "Ah, donkey 
of my heart!" would he exclaim, resting his burden on a 
stone, and wiping the sweat from his brow, "Ah, donkey of 
my heart ! I warrant me thou thinkest of thy old master ! I 
warrant me thou missest the water jars — poor beast ! " 

To add to his afflictions his wife received him, on his return 
home, with whimperings and repinings ; she had clearly the 
vantage-ground of him, having warned him not to commit the 
egregious act of hospitality that had brought on him all these 
misfortunes, and like a knowing woman, she took every occa- 
sion to throw her superior sagacity in his teeth. If ever her 
children lacked food, or needed a new garment, she would an- 
swer with a sneer, " Go to your father ; he's heir to king Chico 
of the Alhambra. Ask him to help you out of the Moor's 
strong box." 

Was ever poor mortal more soundly punished, for having 



114 THE ALHAMBRA. 

clone a good action ! The unlucky Peregil was grieved in flesh 
and spirit, but still he bore meekly with the railings of his 
spouse. At length one evening, when, after a hot day's toil, 
she taunted him in the usual manner, he lost all patience. He 
did not venture to retort upon her, but his e^'e rested upon the 
box of sandalwood, which lay on a shelf with lid half open, 
as if laughing in mockery of his vexation. Seizing it up he 
dashed it with indignation on the floor. "Unlucky was the 
day that I ever set eyes on thee," he cried, " or sheltered thy 
master beneath my roof." 

As the box struck the floor the lid flew wide open, and the 
parchment scroll rolled forth. Peregil sat regarding the scroll 
for some time in moody silence. At length rallying his ideas, 
" Who knows," thought he, " but this writing may be of some 
importance, as the Moor seems to have guarded it with such 
care." Picking it up, therefore, he put it in his bosom, and 
the next morning, as he was crying water through the streets, 
he stopped at the shop of a Moor, a native of Tangiers, who 
sold trinkets and perfumery in the Zacatin, and asked him to 
explain the contents. 

The Moor read the scroll attentively, then stroked his beard 
and smiled. " This manuscript," said he, " is a form of incan- 
tation for the recoveiy of hidden treasure, that is under the 
power of enchantment. It is said to have such virtue that the 
strongest bolts and bars, nay the adamantine rock itself will 
yield before it." 

"Bah! " cried the little Gallego, " what is all that to me? 
I am no enchanter, and know nothing of buried treasure." So 
saying he shouldered his water-jar, left the scroll in the hands 
of the Moor, and trudged forward on his daily rounds. 

That evening, however, as he rested himself about twilight 
at the well of the Alhambra, he found a number of gossips as- 
sembled at the place, and their conversation, as is not unusual 
at that shadowy hour, turned upon old tales and traditions of 
a supernatural nature. Being all poor as rats, they dwelt with 
peculiar fondness upon the popular theme of enchanted riches 
left by the Moors in various parts of the Alhambra. Above 
all, they concurred in the belief that there were great treasures 
buried deep in the earth under the tower of the Seven Floors. 

These stories made an unusual impression on the mind of 
honest Peregil, and they sank deeper and deeper into his 
thoughts as he returned alone down the darkling avenues. 
"If, after all, there should be treasure hid beneath that tower 
— and if the scroll I left with the Moor should enable me to get 



LEGEND OF THE 3W0R\S LEGACY. 115 

at it ! ' ' In the sudden ecstasy of the thought he had well nigh 
let fall his water-jar. 

That night he tumbled and tossed, and could scarcely get a 
wink of sleep for the thoughts that were bewildering his brain. 
In the morning, bright and early, he repaired to the shop of 
the Moor, and told him all that was passing in his mind. 
" You can read Arabic," said he, " suppose we go together to 
the tower and try the effect of the charm ; if it fails we are no 
worse off than before, but if it succeeds we will share equally 
all the treasure we may discover." 

"Hold," replied the Moslem, " this writing is not sufficient 
of itself ; it must be read at midnight, by the light of a taper 
singularly compounded and prepared, the ingredients of which 
are not within my reach. Without such taper the scroll is of 
no avail." 

" Say no more ! " cried the little Gallego. " I have such a 
taper at hand and will bring it here in a moment." So saying 
he hastened home, and soon returned with the end of a yellow 
wax taper that he had found in the box of sandalwood. 

The Moor felt it, and smelt to it. " Here are rare and costly 
perfumes," said he, " combined with this yellow wax. This is 
the kind of taper specified in the scroll. While this burns, the 
strongest walls and most secret caverns will remain open ; woe 
to him, however, who lingers within until it be extinguished. 
He will remain enchanted with the treasure." 

It was now agreed between them to try the charm that very 
night. At a late hour, therefore, when nothing was stirring 
but bats and owls, they ascended the woody hill of the Alham- 
bra, and approached that awful tower, shrouded by trees and 
rendered formidable by so many traditionary tales. 

By the light of a lantern, they groped their way through 
bushes, and over fallen stones, to the door of a vault beneath 
the tower. With fear and trembling they descended a flight of 
steps cut into the rock. It led to an empty chamber, damp 
and drear, from which another flight of steps led to a deeper 
vault. In this way they descended four several flights, leading 
into as many vaults, one below the other, but the floor of the 
fourth was solid, and though, according to tradition, there re- 
mained three vaults still below, it was said to be impossible to 
penetrate farther, the residue being shut up by strong enchant- 
ment. The air of this vault was damp and chilly, and had an 
earthy smell, and the light scarce cast forth any raj's. They 
paused here for a time in breathless suspense, until they faintly 
heard the clock of the watch tower strike midnight ; upon this 



116 THE ALU AM BR A. 

they lit the waxen taper, which diffused an odor of myrrh, and 
frankincense, and storax. 

The Moor began to read in a-, hurried voice. He had scarce 
finished, when there was a noise as of subterraneous thunder. 
The earth shook, and the floor yawning open disclosed a flight 
of steps. Trembling with awe they descended, and by the 
light of the lantern found themselves in another vault, covered 
with Arabic inscriptions. In the centre stood a great chest, 
secured with seven bands of steel, at each end of which sat an 
enchanted Moor in armor, but motionless as a statue, being- 
controlled by the power of the incantation. Before the chest 
were several jars filled with gold and silver and precious stones. 
In the largest of these they thrust their arms up to the elbow, 
and at every clip hauled forth hands full of broad yellow pieces 
of Moorish gold, or bracelets and ornaments of the same pre- 
cious metal, while occasionally a necklace of Oriental pearl 
would stick to their fingers. Still they trembled and breathed 
short while cramming their pockets with the spoils ; and cast 
many a fearful glance at the two enchanted Moors, who sat 
grim and motionless, glaring upon them with unwinking eyes. 
At length, struck with a sudden panic at some fancied noise, 
they both rushed up the staircase, tumbled over one another 
into the upper apartment, overturned and extinguished the 
waxen taper, and the pavement again closed with a thundering 
sound. 

Filled with dismay, they did not pause until they had groped 
their way out .of the tower, and beheld the stars shiniug through 
the trees. Then seating themselves upon the grass, they di- 
vided the spoil, determining to content themselves for the pres- 
ent with this mere skimming of the jars, but to return on some 
future night and drain them to the bottom. To make sure of 
each other's good faith, also, they divided the talismans be- 
tween them, one retaining the scroll and the other the taper; 
this done, they set off with light hearts and well-lined pockets 
for Granada. 

As they wended their way down the hill, the shrewd Moor 
whispered a word of counsel in the ear of the simple little 
water-carrier. 

"Friend Peregil," said he, "all this affair must be kept a 
profound secret until we have secured the treasure and conveyed 
it out of harm's way. If a whisper of it gets to the ear of the 
Alcalde we are undone ! " 

"Certainly!" replied the Gallego ; "nothing can be more 
true.'' 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 117 

" Friend Peregil," said the Moor, " you are a discreet man, 
and I make no doubt can keep a secret ; but — you have a 
wife—" 

" She shall not know a word of it ! " replied the little water- 
carrier sturdily. 

"Enough," said the Moor, "I depend upon thy discretion 
and thy promise." 

Never was promise more positive and sincere ; but alas ! 
what man can keep a secret from his wife ? Certainly not such 
a one as Peregil the water-carrier, who was one of the most 
loving and tractable of husbands. On his return home he 
found his wife moping in a corner. 

" Mighty well ! " cried she, as he entered ; " you've come at 
last ; after rambling about until this hour of the night. I 
wonder you have not brought home another Moor as a house- 
mate." Then bursting into tears she began to wring her 
hands and smite her breast. " Unhappy woman that I am ! " 
exclaimed she, " what will become of me ! My house stripped 
and plundered by lawyers and alguazils ; my husband a do-no- 
good that no longer brings home bread for his family, but goes 
rambling about, day and night, w T ith infidel Moors. Oh, my 
children ! my children ! what will become of us ; we shall all 
have to beg in the streets ! ' ' 

Honest Peregil was so moved by the distress of his spouse, 
that he could not help whimpering also. His heart was as full 
as his pocket, and not to be restrained. Thrusting his hand 
into the latter he hauled forth three or four broad gold pieces 
and slipped them into her bosom. The poor woman stared 
with astonishment, and could not understand the meaning of 
this golden shower. Before she could recover her surprise, 
the little G-allego drew forth a chain of gold and dangled it 
before her, capering with exultation, his mouth distended 
from ear to ear. 

"Holy Virgin protect us!" exclaimed the wife. "What 
hast thou been doing, Peregil? Surely thou hast not been 
committing murder and robbery ! " 

The idea scarce entered the brain of the poor woman than it 
became a certainty with her. She saw a prison and a gallows 
in the distance, and a little bandy-legged Gallego dangling 
pendent from it ; and, overcome by the horrors conjured up by 
her imagination, fell into violent hysterics. 

What could the poor man do ? He had no other means of 
pacifying his wife and dispelling the phantoms of her fancy, 
than by relating the whole story of his good fortune. This, 



118 THE ALHAMBRA. 

however, he did not do until he had exacted from her the 
most solemn promise to keep it a profound secret from every 
living being. 

To describe her joy would be impossible. She flung her 
arms round the neck of her husband, and almost strangled him 
with her caresses. "Now, wife!" exclaimed the little man 
with honest exultation, "what say you now to the Moor's 
legacy? Henceforth never abuse me for helping a fellow crea- 
ture in distress." 

The honest Gallego retired to his sheepskin mat, and slept as 
soundly as if on a bed of down. Not so his wife. — She emp- 
tied the whole contents of his pockets upon the mat, and sat all 
night counting gold pieces of Arabic coin, trying on necklaces 
and ear-rings, and fancying the figure she should one day make 
when permitted to enjoy her riches. 

On the following morning the honest Gallego took a broad 
golden coin, and repaired with it to a jeweller's shop in the 
Zacatin to offer it for sale ; pretending to have found it among 
the ruins of the Alhambra. The jeweller saw that it had an 
Arabic inscription and was of the purest gold ; he offered, 
however, but a third of its value, with which the water-carrier 
was perfectly content. Peregil now bought new clothes for 
his little flock, and all kinds of toys, together with ample pro- 
visions for a hearty meal, and returning to his dwelling set 
all his children dancing around him, while he capered in the 
midst, the happiest of fathers. 

The wife of the water-carrier kept her promise of secrecy 
with surprising strictness. For a whole day and a half she 
went about with a look of mystery and a heart swelling almost 
to bursting, yet she held her peace, though surrounded by her 
gossips. It is true she could not help giving herself a few airs, 
apologized for her ragged dress, and talked of ordering a new 
basquina all trimmed with gold lace and bugles, and a new 
lace mantilla. She threw out hints of her husband's intention 
of leaving off his trade of water-carrying, as it did not alto- 
gether agree with his health. In fact she thought they should 
all retire to the country for the summer, that the children 
might have the benefit of the mountain air, for there was no 
living in the city in this sultry season. 

The neighbors stared at each other, and thought the poor 
woman had lost her wits, and her airs and graces and elegant 
pretensions were the theme of universal scoffing and merriment 
among her friends, the moment her back was turned. 

If she restrained herself abroad, however, she indemnified 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 119 

herself at home, and, putting a string of rich Oriental pearls 
round her neck, Moorish bracelets on her arms ; an aigrette of 
diamonds on her head, sailed backwards and forwards in her 
slattern rags about the room, now and then stopping to admire 
herself in a piece of broken mirror. Nay, in the impulse of 
her simple vanity, she could not resist on one occasion show- 
ing herself at the window, to enjoy the effect of her finery on 
the passers by. 

As the fates would have it, Pedrillo Pedrugo, the meddle- 
some barber, was at this moment sitting idly in his shop on 
the opposite side of the street, when his ever watchful eye 
caught the sparkle of a diamond. In an instant he was at his 
loop-hole, reconnoitring the slattern spouse of the water-car- 
rier, decorated with the splendor of an eastern bride. No 
sooner had he taken an accurate inventory of her ornaments 
than he posted off with all speed to the Alcalde. In a little 
while the hungry alguazil was again on the scent, and before 
the clay was over, the unfortunate Peregil was again dragged 
into the presence of the judge. 

" How is this, villain ! " cried the Alcalde in a furious voice. 
" You told me that the infidel who died in your house left noth- 
ing behind but an empty coffer, and now I hear of your wife 
flaunting in her rags decked out with pearls and diamonds. 
Wretch, that thou art ! prepare to render up the spoils of thy 
miserable victim, and to swing on the gallows that is already 
tired of waiting for thee." 

The terrified water-carrier fell on his knees, and made a full 
relation of the marvellous manner in which he had gained his 
wealth. The Alcalde, the alguazil, and the inquisitive barber 
listened with greedy ears to this Arabian tale of enchanted 
treasure. The alguazil was despatched to bring the Moor who 
had assisted in the incantation. The Moslem entered half 
frightened out of his wits at finding himself in the hands of the 
harpies of the law. When he beheld the water-carrier standing 
with sheepish look and downcast countenance, he comprehended 
the whole matter. " Miserable animal," said he, as he passed 
near him, t; did I not warn thee against babbling to thy 
wife?" 

The story of the Moor coincided exactly with that of his col- 
league ; but the Alcalde affected to be slow of belief, and threw 
out menaces of imprisonment and rigorous investigation. 

" Softly, good Sehor Alcalde," said the Mussulman, who by 
this time had recovered his usual shrewdness and self-posses- 
sion. "Let us not mar fortune's favors in the scramble for 



120 THE ALU AM BRA. 

them. Nobody knows any thing of this matter but ourselves; 
let us keep the secret. There is wealth enough in the cave to 
enrich us all. Promise a fair division, and all shall be produced ; 
refuse, and the cave shall remain forever closed." 

The Alcalde consulted apart with the alguazil. The latter 
was an old fox in his profession. " Promise any thing," said 
he, " until you get possession of the treasure. You may then 
seize upon the whole, and if he and Ms accomplice dare to 
murmur, threaten them with the fagot and the stake as infidels 
and sorcerers." 

The Alcalde relished the advice. Smoothing his brow and 
turning to the Moor, — " This is a strange story," said he, " and 
may be true, but I must have ocular proof of it. This very 
night 3'ou must repeat the incantation in my presence. If there 
be really such treasure, we will share it amicably between us, 
and say nothing further of the matter ; if ye have deceived me, 
expect no mercy at my hands. In the mean time you must 
remain in custody." 

The Moor and the water-carrier cheerfully agreed to these 
conditions, satisfied that the event would prove the truth of 
their words. 

Towards midnight the Alcalde sallied forth secretly, attended 
by the alguazil and the meddlesome barber, all strongly armed. 
They conducted the Moor and the water-carrier as prisoners, 
and were provided with the stout donkey of the latter, to bear 
off the expected treasure. They arrived at the tower without 
being observed, and t3'ing the donkey to a fig-tree, descended 
into the fourth vault of the tower. 

The scroll was produced, the yellow waxen taper lighted, and 
the Moor read the form of incantation. The earth trembled as 
before, and the pavement opened with a thundering sound, dis- 
closing the narrow flight of steps. The Alcalde, the alguazil, 
and the barber were struck aghast, and could not summon 
courage to descend. The Moor and the water-carrier entered 
the lower vault and found the two Moors seated as before, silent 
and motionless. They removed two of the great jars filled with 
golden coin and precious stones. The water-carrier bore them 
up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a strong-backed 
little man, and accustomed to carry burdens, he staggered be- 
neath their weight, and found, when slung on each side of his 
donkey, they were as much as the animal could bear. 

"Let us be content for the present," said the Moor; "here 
is as much treasure as we can carry off without being perceived, 
and enough to make us all wealthy to our heart "s desire." 



LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 121 

" Ts there more treasure remaining behind?" demanded the 
Alcalde. 

lt The greatest prize of all," said the Moor ; " a huge coffer, 
bound with bands of steel, and filled with pearls* and precious 
stones." 

" Let us have up the coffer by all means," cried the grasping 
Alcalde. 

"I will descend for no more," said the Moor, doggedly. 
" Enough is enough for a reasonable man ; more is superfluous." 

" And I," said the water-carrier, " will bring up no further 
burthen to break the back of my poor donkey." 

Finding commands, threats, and entreaties equally vain, the 
Alcalde turned to his two adherents. " Aid me," said he, " to 
bring up the coffer, and its contents shall be divided between 
us." So saying he descended the steps, followed, with trem- 
bling reluctance, by the alguazil and the barber. 

No sooner did the Moor behold them fairty earthed than he 
extinguished the yellow taper : the pavement closed with its 
usual crash, and the three worthies remained buried in its 
womb. 

He then hastened up the different flights of steps, nor stopped 
until in the open air. The little water-carrier followed him as 
fast as his short legs would permit. 

" What hast thou done? " cried Peregil, as soon as he could 
recover breath. " The Alcalde and the other two are shut up 
in the vault ! ' ' 

" It is the will of Allah ! " said the Moor, devoutly. 

" And will you not release them? " demanded the Gallego. 

" Allah forbid!" replied the Moor, smoothing his beard. 
" It is written in the book of fate that they shall remain en- 
chanted until some future adventurer shall come to break the 
charm. The will of God be done!" 80 saying he hurled 
the end of the waxen taper far among the gloomy thickets of 
the glen. 

There was now no remedy ; so the Moor and the water-carrier 
proceeded with the richly-laden donkey towards the city : nor 
could honest Peregil refrain from hugging and kissing his long- 
eared fellow-laborer, thus restored to him from the clutches of 
the law ; and, in fact, it is doubtful which gave the simple- 
hearted little man most joy at the moment, the gaining of the 
treasure or the recovery of the donkey. 

The two partners in good luck divided their spoil amicably 
and fairly, excepting that the Moor, who had a little taste for 
trinketry, made out to get into his heap the most of the pearls 



122 THE ALHAMBRA. 

and precious stones, and other baubles, but then he always 
gave the water-carrier in lieu magnificent jewels of massy gold 
four times the size, with which the latter was heartily content. 
They took care not to linger within reach of accidents, but 
made off to enjoy their wealth undisturbed in other countries. 
The Moor returned into Africa, to his native city of Tetuan, 
and the Gallego, with his wife, his children, and his donkey, 
made the best of his way to Portugal. Here, under the ad- 
monition and tuition of his wife, he became a personage of 
some consequence, for she made the little man array his long 
body and short legs in doublet and hose, with a feather in his 
hat and a sword by his side ; and, laying aside the familiar 
appellation of Peregil, assume the more sonorous title of Don 
Pedro Gil. His progeny grew up a thriving and merry-hearted, 
though short and bandy-legged generation ; while the Sehora 
Gil, be-fringed, be-laced, and be-tasselled from her head to her 
heels, with glittering rings on every finger, became a model of 
slattern fashion and finery. 

As to the Alcalde, and his adjuncts, they remained shut up 
under the great tower of the Seven Floors, and there they re- 
main spell-bound at the present day. Whenever there shall be 
a lack in Spain of pimping barbers, sharking alguazils, and 
corrupt Alcaldes, they may be sought after ; but if they have 
to wait until such time for their deliverance, there is danger of 
their enchantment enduring until doomsday. 



VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 

It is now nearly three months since I took up my abode in 
the Alhambra, during which time the progress of the season has 
wrought many changes. When I first arrived every thing was 
in the freshness of May ; the foliage of the trees was still 
tender and transparent ; the pomegranate had not yet shed its 
brilliant crimson blossoms ; the orchards of the Xenil and the 
Darro were in full bloom ; the rocks were hung with wild flow- 
ers, and Granada seemed completely surrounded by a wilder- 
ness of roses, among which innumerable nightingales sang, not 
merely in the night, but all day long. 

The advance of summer has withered the rose and silenced 
the nightingale, and the distant country begins to look parched 
and sunburnt ; though a perennial verdure reigns immediately 



VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 123 

round the city, and in the deep narrow valleys at the foot of 
the snow-capped mountains. 

The Alharabra possesses retreats graduated to the heat of the 
weather, among which the most peculiar is the almost subter- 
ranean apartment of the baths. This still retains its ancient 
Oriental character, though stamped with the touching traces of 
decline. At the entrance, opening into a small court formerly 
adorned with flowers, is a hall, moderate in size, but light and 
graceful in architecture. It is overlooked by a small gallery 
supported by marble pillars and morisco arches. An alabaster 
fountain in the centre of the pavement still throws up a jet of 
water to cool the place. On each side are deep alcoves with 
raised platforms, where the bathers after their ablutions reclined 
on luxurious cushions, soothed to voluptuous repose by the fra- 
grance of the perfumed air and the notes of soft music from 
the gallery. Beyond this hall are the interior chambers, still 
more private and retired, where no light is admitted but through 
small apertures in the vaulted ceilings. Here was the sanctum 
sanctorum of female privacy, where the beauties of the harem 
indulged in the luxury of the baths. A soft mysterious light 
reigns through the place, the broken baths are still there, and 
traces of ancient elegance. 

The prevailing silence and obscurity have made this a favor- 
ite resort of bats, who nestle during the day in the dark nooks 
and corners, and, on being disturbed, flit mysteriously about 
the twilight chambers, heightening in an indescribable degree 
their air of desertion and decay. 

In this cool and elegant though dilapidated retreat, which 
has the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I have of late passed 
the sultry hours of the day ; emerging toward sunset, and 
bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the great reservoir of 
the main court. In this way I have been enabled in a meas- 
ure to counteract the relaxing and enervating influence of the 
climate. 

My dream of absolute sovereignty, however, is at an end : I 
was roused from it lately by the report of firearms, which 
reverberated among the towers as if the castle had been taken 
by surprise. On sallying forth I found an old cavalier with a 
number of domestics in possession of the Hall of Ambassadors. 
He was an ancient Count, who had come up from his palace in 
Granada to pass a short time in the Alhambra for the benefit 
of purer air, and who, being a veteran and inveterate sports- 
man, was endeavoring to get an appetite for his breakfast b} T 
shooting at swallows from the balconies. It was a harmless 



124 THE ALHAMBRA. 

amusement, for though, by the alertness of his attendants in 
loading his pieces, he was enabled to keep up a brisk fire, I 
could not accuse him of the death of a single swallow. Nay, 
the birds themselves seemed to enjo} 7 the sport, and to deride 
his want of skill, skimming in circles close to the balconies, and 
twittering as they darted by. 

The arrival of this old gentleman has in some measure 
changed the aspect of affairs, but has likewise afforded matter 
for agreeable speculation. We have tacitly shared the empire 
between us, like the last kings of Granada, excepting that we 
maintain a most amicable alliance. He reigns absolute over 
the Court of the Lions and its adjacent halls, while I maintain 
peaceful possession of the region of the baths and the little 
garden of Lindaraxa. We take our meals together under the 
arcades of the court, where the fountains cool the air, and bub- 
bling rills run along the channels of the marble pavement. 

In the evening, a domestic circle gathers about the worth}' 
old cavalier. The countess comes up from the city, with a 
favorite daughter about sixteen 3 T ears of age. Then there are 
the official dependants of the Count, his chaplain, his lawyer, 
his secretaiy, his steward, and other officers and agents of 
his extensive possessions. Thus he holds a kind of domestic 
court, where every person seeks to contribute to his amuse- 
ment, without sacrificing his own pleasure or self-respect. In 
fact, whatever may be said of Spanish pride, it certainly does 
not enter into social or domestic life. Among no people are 
the relations between kindred more cordial, or between supe- 
rior and dependant more frank and genial ; in these respects 
there still remains, in the provincial life of Spain, much of the 
vaunted simplicity of the olden times. 

The most interesting member of this family group, however, 
is the daughter of the Count, the charming though almost infan- 
tile little Carmen. Her form has not yet attained its maturity, 
but has already the exquisite symmetry and pliant grace so 
prevalent in this country. Her blue eyes, fair complexion, 
and light hair are unusual in Andalusia, and give a mildness 
and gentleness to her demeanor, in contrast to the usual fire 
of Spanish beauty, but in perfect unison with the guileless and 
confiding innocence of her manners. She has, however, all the 
innate aptness and versatility of her fascinating countiywomen, 
and sings, dances, and plays the guitar and other instruments 
to admiration. A few da} T s after taking up his residence in 
the Alhambra, the Count gave a domestic fete on his saint's 
day, assembling round him the members of his family and 



VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 125 

household, while several old servants came from his distant 
possessions to pay their reverence to him, and partake of the 
good cheer. 

This patriarchal spirit which characterized the Spanish no- 
bility in the clays of their opulence has declined with their 
fortunes ; but some who, like the Count, still retain their an- 
cient family possessions, keep up a little of the ancient system, 
and have their estates overrun and almost eaten up by genera- 
tions of idle retainers. According to this magnificent old 
Spanish system, in which the national pride and generosity 
bore equal parts, a superannuated servant was never turned 
off, but became a charge for the rest of his days ; nay, his 
children, and his children's children, and often their relations, 
to the right and left, became gradually entailed upon the 
family. Kence the huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, which 
have such an air of empty ostentation from the greatness 
of their size compared with the mediocrity and scantiness of 
their furniture, were absolutely required in the golden days of 
Spain by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. The}' were 
little better than vast barracks for the hereditaiy generations 
of hangers-on that battened at the expense of a Spanish noble. 
The worthy Count, who has estates in various parts of the 
kingdom, assures me that some of them barely feed the hordes 
of dependants nestled upon them ; who consider themselves 
entitled to be maintained upon the place, rent free, because 
their forefathers have been so for generations. 

The domestic fete of the Count broke in upon the usual still 
life of the Alhambra. Music and laughter resounded through 
its late silent halls ; there were groups of the guests amusing 
themselves about the galleries and gardens, and officious ser- 
vants from town hurrying through the courts, bearing viands 
to the ancient kitchen, which was again alive with the tread of 
cooks and scullions, and blazed with unwonted fires. 

The feast, for a Spanish set dinner is literally a feast, was 
laid in the beautiful morisco hall called "la sala de las dos 
hermanas," (the saloon of the two sisters;) the table groaned 
with abundance, and a joyous conviviality prevailed round the 
board ; for though the Spaniards are generally an abstemious 
people, they are complete revellers at a banquet. 

For my own part, there was something peculiarly interesting 
in thus sitting at a feast, in the royal halls of the Alhambra, 
given by the representative of one of its most renowned con- 
querors ; for the venerable Count, though unwarlike himself, is 
the lineal descendant and representative of the " Great Cap' 



126 THE ALHAMBRA. 

tain," the illustrious Gonsalvo of Cordova, whose sword he 
guards in the archives of his palace at Granada. 

The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the Hall of 
Ambassadors. Here every one contributed to the general amuse- 
ment by exerting some peculiar talent ; singing, improvising, 
telling wonderful tales, or dancing to that all-pervading talis- 
man of Spanish pleasure, the guitar. 

The life and charm of the whole assemblage, however, was 
the gifted little Carmen. She took her part in two or three 
scenes from Spanish comedies, exhibiting a charming dramatic 
talent ; she gave imitations of the popular Italian singers, with 
singular and whimsical felicity, and a rare quality of voice ; she 
imitated the dialects, dances, and ballads of the gypsies and the 
neighboring peasantry, but did every thing with a facility, a 
neatness, a grace, and an all-pervading prettiness, that were 
perfectly fascinating. The great charm of her performances, 
however, was their being free from all pretension or ambition 
of display. She seemed unconscious of the extent of her own 
talents, and in fact is accustomed only to exert them casually, 
like a child, for the amusement of the domestic circle. Her 
observation and tact must be remarkably quick, for her life is 
passed in the bosom of her family, and she can only have had 
casual and transient glances at the various characters and traits, 
brought out impromptu in moments of domestic hilarity, like 
the one in question. It is pleasing to see the fondness and 
admiration with which every one of the household regards her : 
she is never spoken of, even by the domestics, by any other 
appellation than that of La Nina, " the child," an appellation 
which thus applied has something peculiarly kind and endearing 
in the Spanish language. 

Never shall I think of the Alhambra without remembering 
the lovely little Carmen sporting in happy and innocent girl- 
hood in its marble halls ; dancing to the sound of the Moorish 
castanets, or mingling the silver warbling of her voice with the 
music of the fountains. 

On this festive occasion several curious and amusing legends 
and traditions were told ; many of which have escaped my 
memory ; but of those that most struck me, I will endeavoi 
to shape forth some entertainment for the reader. 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 121 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL; 

OR, 

THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 

There was once a Moorish King of Granada who had but 
one son, whom he named Ahmed, to which his courtiers added 
the surname of al Kamel, or the perfect, from the indubitable 
signs of super-excellence which they perceived in him in his 
very infancy. The astrologers countenanced them in their fore- 
sight, predicting every thing in his favor that could make a 
perfect prince and a prosperous sovereign. One cloud only 
rested upon his destiny, and even that was of a roseate hue. 
He would be of an amorous temperament, and run great perils 
from the tender passion. If, however, he could be kept from 
the allurements of love until of mature age, these dangers 
would be averted, and his life thereafter be one uninterrupted 
course of felicity. 

To prevent all danger of the kind, the king wisely deter- 
mined to rear the prince in a seclusion, where he should never 
see a female face nor hear even the name of love. For this 
purpose he built a beautiful palace on the brow of a hill above 
the Alhambra, in the midst of delightful gardens, but sur- 
rounded by lofty walls ; being, in fact, the same palace known 
at the present day by the name of the Generaliffe. In this 
palace the youthful prince was shut up and entrusted to the 
guardianship and instruction of Ebon Bonabbon, one of the 
wisest and dry est of Arabian sages, who had passed the great- 
est part of his life in Egypt, studying hieroglyphics and making- 
researches among the tombs and pyramids, and who saw more 
charms in an Egyptian mummy than in the most tempting of 
living beauties. The sage was ordered to instruct the prince 
in all kinds of knowledge but one — he is to be kept utterly 
ignorant of love — " use every precaution for the purpose you 
may think proper," said the king, " but remember, oh Ebon 
Bonabbon, if my son learns aught of that forbidden knowledge, 
while under your care, your head shall answer for it.'' A 
withered smile came over the dry visage of the wise Bonabbon 
at the menace. " Let your majesty's heart be as easy about 
your son as mine is about vay head. Am I a man likely to give 
lessons in the idle passion ? ' ' 

Under the vigilant care of the philosopher, the prince grew 



128 THE ALHAMBBA. 

up in the seclusion of the palace and its gardens. He had 
black slaves to attend upon him — hideous mutes, who knew 
nothing of love, or if they did, had not words to communicate 
it. His mental endowments were the peculiar care of Ebon 
Bonabbon, who sought to initiate him into the abstruse lore of 
Egypt, but in this the prince made little progress, and it was 
soon evident that he had no turn for philosophy. 

He was, however, amazingly ductile for a youthful prince ; 
ready to follow any advice and always guided by the last coun- 
cillor. He suppressed his yawns, and listened patiently to the 
long and learned discourses of Ebon Bonabbon, from which he 
imbibed a smattering of various kinds of knowledge, and thus 
happily attained his twentieth year, a miracle of princely wis- 
dom, but totally ignorant of love. 

About this time, however, a change came over the conduct 
of the prince. He completely abandoned his studies and took 
to strolling about the gardens and musing by the side of the 
fountains. He had been taught a little music among his various 
accomplishments ; it now engrossed a great part of his time, 
and a turn for poetry became apparent. The sage Ebon Bon- 
abbon took the alarm, and endeavored to work these idle 
humors out of him by a severe course of algebra ; but the 
prince turned from it with distaste. "I cannot endure alge- 
bra," said he ; " it is an abomination to me. I want something 
that speaks more to the heart." 

The sage Ebon Bonabbon shook his dry head at the words. 
" Here's an end to philosophy," thought he. u The prince has 
discovered he has a heart ! " He now kept anxious watch upon 
his pupil, and saw that the latent tenderness of his nature was 
in activity, and only wanted an object. He wandered about 
the gardens of the Generaliffe in an intoxication of feelings of 
which he knew not the cause. Sometimes he would sit plunged 
in a delicious reverie ; then he would seize his lute and draw 
from it the most touching notes, and then throw it aside, and 
break forth into sighs and ejaculations. 

By degrees this loving disposition began to extend to inani- 
mate objects ; he had his favorite flowers which he cherished 
with tender assiduity ; then he became attached to various 
trees, and there was one in particular, of a graceful form and 
drooping foliage, on which he lavished his amorous devotion, 
carving his name on its bark, hanging garlands on its branches, 
and singing couplets in its praise, to the accompaniment of his 
lute. 

The sage Ebon Bonabbon was alarmed at this excited state 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 129 

of his pupil. He saw him on the very brink of forbidden 
knowledge — the least hint might reveal to him the fatal secret. 
Trembling for the safety of the prince, and the security of his 
own head, he hastened to draw him from the seductions of the 
garden, and shut him up in the highest tower of the Generaliffe. 
It contained beautiful apartments, and commanded an almost 
boundless prospect, but was elevated far above that atmosphere 
of sweets and those witching bowers so dangerous to the feel- 
ings of the too susceptible Ahmed. 

What was to be done, however, to reconcilt him to this 
restraint and to beguile the tedious hours? He had exhausted 
almost all kinds of agreeable knowledge ; and algebra was 
not to be mentioned. Fortunately Ebon Bonabbon had been 
instructed, when in Egypt, in the language of birds, by a Jewish 
Rabbin, who had received it in lineal transmission from Solomon 
the wise, who had been taught it by the Queen of Sheba. At 
the very mention of such a study the eyes of the prince spar- 
kled with animation, and he applied himself to it with such 
avidity, that he soon became as great an adept as his master. 

The tower of the Generaliffe was no longer a solitude ; he 
had companions at hand with whom he could converse. The 
first acquaintance he formed was with a hawk who had built his 
nest in a crevice of the lofty battlements, from whence he 
soared far and wide in quest of prey. The prince, however, 
found little to like or esteem in him. He was a mere pirate of 
the air, swaggering and boastful, whose talk was all about 
rapine, and carnage, and desperate exploits. 

His next acquaintance was an owl, a mighty wise-looking 
bird, with a large head and staring eyes, who sat blinking 
and goggling all day in a hole in the wall, but roamed forth at 
night. He had great pretensions to wisdom ; talked something 
of astrology and the moon, and hinted at the dark sciences, 
but he was grievously given to metaphysics, and the prince 
found his prosings were more ponderous than those of the sage 
Ebon Bonabbon. 

Then there was a bat, that hung all day by his heels in the 
dark corner of a vault, but sallied out in a slip-shod style at 
twilight. He, however, had but twilight ideas on all subjects, 
derided things of which he had taken but an imperfect view, 
and seemed to take delight in nothing. 

Beside these there was a swallow, with whom the prince was 
at first much taken. He was a smart talker, but restless, bus- 
tling, and forever on the wing ; seldom remaining long enough 
for any continued conversation. He turned out in the end to 



130 THE ALHAMBRA. 

be a mere smatterer, who did but skim over the surface of 
things, pretending to know every thing, but knowing nothing 
thoroughly. 

These were the only feathered associates with whom the 
prince had any opportunity of exercising his newly acquired 
language ; the tower was too high for any other birds to fre- 
quent it. He soon grew weary of his new acquaintances, whose 
conversation spake so little to the head and nothing to the 
heart ; and gradually relapsed into his loneliness. A winter 
passed away, spring opened with all its bloom, and verdure, 
and breathing sweetness, and the happy time arrived for birds 
to pair and build their nests. Suddenly, as it were, a universal 
burst of song and melody broke forth from the groves and gar- 
dens of the Generaliffe, and reached the prince in the solitude 
of his tower. From every side he heard the same universal 
theme — love — love — love — chanted forth and responded to 
in every variety of note and tone. The prince listened in si- 
lence and perplexity. "What can be this love," thought he, 
"of which the world seems so full, and of which I know 
nothing? " He applied for information to his friend the hawk. 
The ruffian bird answered in a tone of scorn, — "You must 
apply," said he, "to the vulgar, peaceable birds of earth, who 
are made for the prey of us princes of the air. My trade is 
war, and fighting my delight. In a word, I am a warrior, and 
know nothing of this thing called love." 

The prince turned from him with disgust, and sought the owl 
in his retreat. " This is a bird," said he, " of peaceful habits, 
and may be able to solve my question." So he asked the owl 
to tell him what was this love about which all the birds in the 
groves below were singing. 

Upon this the owl put on a look of offended dignity. " My 
nights," said he, "are taken up in study and research, and my 
days iu ruminating in myself upon all that I have learnt. As 
to these singing birds of whom 3 t ou talk, I never listen to them. 
I despise them and their themes. Allah be praised, I cannot 
sing. In a word, I am a philosopher, and know nothing of this 
thing called love." 

The prince now repaired to the vault where his friend the bat 
was hanging by the heels, and propounded the same question. 
The bat wrinkled up his nose into a most snappish expression. 
"Why do you disturb me in my morning's nap with such an 
idle question," said he peevishly. " I onty fly by twilight when 
all birds are asleep, and never trouble myself with their con- 
cerns. I am neither bird nor beast, and I thank heaven for it. 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 131 

I have found out the villany of the whole of them, and hate 
them, one and all. Iu a word, I am a misanthrope, and know 
nothing of this thing called love." 

As a last resort, the prince now sought the swallow, and 
stopped him just as he was circling about the summit of the 
tower. The swallow as usual was in a prodigious hurry, and 
had scarce time to make a reply. " Upon my word," said he, 
"I have so much public business to attend to, and so many 
pursuits to follow, that I have had no time to think on the sub- 
ject. I have every day a thousand visits to pay ; a thousand 
affairs of importance to examine into, that leave me not a 
moment of leisure for these little sing-song matters. In a 
word, I am a citizen of the world. I know nothing of this 
thing called love." So saying, the swallow dived into the val- 
ley and was out of sight in a moment. 

The prince remained disappointed and perplexed, but with 
his curiosity still more piqued by the difficulty of gratifying it. 
While in this mood his ancient guardian entered the tower. The 
prince advanced eagerly to meet him. " Oh sage Ebon Bonab- 
bon," cried he, u thou hast revealed to me much of the wis- 
dom of the earth, but there is one thing of which I remain in 
utter ignorance, and would fain be informed." 

"My prince has but to make the inquiry, and every thing 
within the limited range of his servant's intellect is at his com- 
mand." 

" Tell me then, oh most profound of sages, what is the na- 
ture of this thing called love? " 

The sage Ebon Bonabbon was struck as with a thunderbolt. 
He trembled and turned pale, and felt as if his head sat but 
loosely on his shoulders. 

" What could suggest such a question to my prince? — where 
could he have learnt so idle a word? " 

The prince led him to the window of the tower. " Listen, 
oh Ebon Bonabbon ! " said he. The sage listened. The night- 
ingale sat in a thicket below the tower singing to his paramour, 
the rose ; from every blossomed spray and tufted grove arose 
a strain of melody, and love — love — love, was still the unvary- 
ing theme. " Allah Achbar ! God is great!" exclaimed the 
wise Bonabbon. " Who shall pretend to keep this secret from 
the hearts of men when even the birds of the air conspire to 
betray it ? " 

Then turning to Ahmed, " Oh my prince," cried he, " shut 
thine ears to these seductive strains. Close thy mind against 
this dangerous knowledge . Know that this love is the cause of 



132 THE ALHAMBRA. 

half the ills of wretched mortality. It is this which produces 
bitterness of strife between brethren and friends ; which 
causes treacherous murder and desolating war. Care and sor- 
row, weary days and sleepless nights, are its attendants. It 
withers the bloom and blights the joys of \'Outh, and brings on 
the ills and griefs of premature old age. Allah preserve thee, 
my prince, in total ignorance of this thing called love ! " 

The sage Ebon Bonabbon hastily retired, leaving the prince 
plunged in still deeper perplexity. It was in vain he attempted 
to dismiss the subject from his mind ; it still continued upper- 
most in his thoughts, and teased and exhausted him with vain 
conjectures. " ►Surely," said he to himself as he listened to 
the tuneful strains of the birds, "there is no sorrow in these 
notes : every thing seems tenderness and joy. If love be a 
cause of such wretchedness and strife, why are not those birds 
drooping in solitude, or tearing each other in pieces, instead of 
fluttering cheerfully about the groves, or sporting with each other 
among the flowers ? ' ' 

He lay one morning on his couch meditating on this inex- 
plicable matter. The window of his chamber was open to ad- 
mit the soft morning breeze which came laden with the perfume 
of orange blossoms from the valley of the Darro. The voice 
of the nightingale was faintly heard, still chanting the wonted 
theme. As the prince was listening and sighing, there was a 
sudden rushing noise in the air ; a beautiful dove, pursued by a 
hawk, darted in at the window and fell panting on the floor ; 
while the pursuer, balked of his prey, soared off to the moun- 
tains. 

The prince took up the gasping bird, smoothed its feathers, 
and nestled it in his bosom. When he had soothed it by his 
caresses he put it in a golden cage, and offered it, with his 
own hands, the whitest and finest of wheat and the purest of 
water. The bird, however, refused food, and sat drooping and 
pining, and uttering piteous moans. 

" What aileth thee?" said Ahmed. "Hast thou not every 
thing thy heart can wish? " 

"Alas, no!" replied the dove, "am I not separated from 
the partner of my heart — and that too in the happy spring-time 
— the very season of love ? " 

" Of love ! " echoed Ahmed. " I pray thee, my pretty bird, 
canst thou then tell me what is love? '1/aT^ 

" Too well can I, my prince. . It is* the torment of one, the 
felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three. It is a charm 
which draws two beings together, and unites them by delicious 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 133 

sympathies, making it happiness to be with each other, but 
misery to be apart. Is there no being to whom you are drawn 
by these ties of tender affection ? ' ' 

"I like my old teacher, Ebon Bonabbon, better than any 
other being ; but he is often tedious, and I occasionally feel 
myself happier without his society." 

" That is not the sympathy I mean. I speak of love, the 
great mystery and principle of life ; the intoxicating revel of 
youth ; the sober delight of age. Look forth, my prince, and 
behold how at this blest season all nature is full of love. Every 
created being has its mate ; the most insignificant bird sings 
to its paramour ; the very beetle woos its lady beetle in the 
dust, and yon butterflies which you see fluttering high above the 
tower and toying in the air are happy in each other's love. 
Alas, my prince ! hast thou spent so many of the precious days 
of youth without knowing any thing of love? Is there no gentle 
being of another sex ; no beautiful princess, or lovely damsel 
who has ensnared your heart, and tilled your bosom with a soft 
tumult of pleasing pains and tender wishes? " 

" I begin to understand ! " said the prince, sighing. " Such 
a tumult I have more than once experienced without knowing 
the cause ; and where should I seek for an object such as you 
describe in this dismal solitude? " 

A little further conversation ensued, and the first amatory 
lesson of the prince was complete. 

"Alas! " said he, u if love be indeed such a delight, and 
its interruption such a miseiy, Allah forbid that I should mar 
the joy of any of its votaries." He opened the cage, took out 
the dove, and, having fondly kissed it, carried it to the window. 
" Go, happy bird," said he, " rejoice with the partner of thy 
heart in the days of youth and spring-time. Why should I 
make thee a fellow-prisoner in this dreary tower, where love 
can never enter ? ' ' 

The dove flapped its wings in rapture, gave one vault into 
the air, and then swooped downward on whistling wings to the 
blooming bowers of the Darro. 

The prince followed him with his eyes, and then gave way to 
bitter repining. The singing of the birds which once delighted 
him now added to his bitterness. Love ! love ! love ! Alas, 
poor youth, he now understood the strain. 

His eyes flashed fire when next he beheld the sage Bonab- 
bon. u Why hast thou kept me in this abject ignorance?" 
cried he. " Why has the great mystery and principle of life 
been withheld from me, in which I find the meanest insect is so 



134 THE ALHAMBRA. 

learned? Behold all Dature is in a revel of delight. Every 
created being rejoices with its mate. This — this is the love 
about which I have sought instruction ; why am I alone de- 
barred its enjoyment ? why has so much of my youth been 
wasted without a knowledge of its rapture ? ' ' 

The sage Bonabbon saw that all further reserve was useless, 
for the prince had acquired the dangerous and forbidden knowl- 
edge. He revealed to him, therefore, the predictions of the 
astrologers, and the precautions that had been taken in his 
education to avert the threatened evils. "And now, my 
prince," added he, "my life is in your hands. Let the king 
your father discover that you have learned the passion of love 
while under my guardianship, and my head must answer for 
it." 

The prince was as reasonable as most young men of his age, 
and easily listened to the remonstrances of his tutor, since 
nothing pleaded against them. Beside, he really was attached 
to the sage Bonabbon, and being as yet but theoretically ac- 
quainted with the passion of love, he consented to confine the 
knowledge of it in his own bosom, rather than endanger the 
head of the philosopher. His discretion was doomed, however, 
to be put to still further proofs. A few mornings afterwards, as 
he was ruminating on the battlements of the tower, the dove 
which had been released by him came hovering in the air, and 
alighted fearlessly upon his shoulder. 

The prince fondled it to his breast. " Happy bird," said he, 
" who can fly, as it were, with the wings of the morning to the 
uttermost parts of the earth. Where hast thou been since we 
parted ? ' ' 

"In a far country, my prince; from whence I bring you 
tidings in reward for my libert}'. In the wide compass of my 
flight, which extends over plain and mountain, as I was soaring 
in the air, I beheld below me a delightful garden with all kinds 
of fruits and flowers. It was in a green meadow on the banks 
of a meandering stream, and in the centre of the garden was a 
stately palace. I alighted in one of the bowers to repose after 
my weary flight ; on the green bank below me was a youthful 
princess in the very sweetness and bloom of her years. She 
was surrounded by female attendants, young like herself, who 
decked her with garlands and coronets of flowers ; but no 
flower of field or garden could compare with her for loveliness. 
Here, however, she bloomed in secret, for the garden was sur- 
rounded by high walls, and no mortal man was permitted to 
enter. When I beheld this beauteous maid thus young, and iu- 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 135 

nocent, and unspotted by the world, I thought, here is the being 
formed by heaven to inspire my prince with love." 

The description was as a spark of fire to the combustible 
heart of Ahmed ; all the latent amorousness of his tempera- 
ment had at. once found an object, and he conceived an im- 
measurable passion for the princess. He wrote a letter couched 
in the most impassioned language, breathing his fervent devo- 
tion, but bewailing the unhappy thraldom of his person, which 
prevented him from seeking her out, and throwing himself at 
her feet. He added couplets of the most tender and moving- 
eloquence, for he was a poet by nature and inspired by love. 
He addressed his letter, "To the unknown beaut} 7 , from the 
captive prince Ahmed," then perfuming it with musk and roses, 
he gave it to the dove. 

"Away, trustiest of messengers," said he. "Fly over 
mountain, and valley, and river, and plain ; rest not in bower 
nor set foot on earth, until thou hast given this letter to the 
mistress of my heart." 

The dove soared high in air, and taking his course darted 
away in one undeviating direction. The prince followed him 
with his eye until he was a mere speck on a cloud, and gradu- 
ally disappeared behind a mountain. 

Day after day he watched for the return of the messenger 
of love; but he watched in vain. He began to accuse him of 
forgetfulness, when towards sunset, one evening, the faithful 
bird fluttered into his department, and, falling at his feet, ex- 
pired. The arrow of some wanton archer had pierced his 
breast, yet he had struggled with the lingerings of life to exe- 
cute his mission. As the prince bent with grief over this gentle 
martyr to fidelity, he beheld a chain of pearls round his neck, 
attached to which, beneath his wing, was a small enamelled 
picture. It represented a lovely princess in the very flower of 
her years. It was, doubtless, the unknown beauty of ' the 
garden: but who and where was she — how had she received 
his letter — and was this picture sent as a token of an approval of 
his passion ? Unfortunately, the death of the faithful dove left 
every thing in mystery and doubt. 

The prince gazed on the picture till his eyes swam with tears. 
He pressed it to his lips and to his heart ; he sat for hours con- 
templating it in an almost agony of tenderness. "Beautiful 
image!" said he. "Alas, thou art but an image. Yet thy 
dewy eyes beam tenderly upon me *, those rosy lips look as 
though they would speak encouragement. Vain fancies ! Have 
they not looked the same on some more happy rival? But 



136 THE ALHAMBRA. 

where in this wide world shall I hope to find the original? 
Who knows what mountains, what realms may separate us? 
What adverse chance may intervene? Perhaps now, even now, 
lovers may be crowding around her, while I sit here, a prisoner 
in a tower, wasting my time in adoration of a painted shadow. ' ' 

The resolution of prince Ahmed was taken. " I will fly from 
this palace," said he, "which has become an odious prison, 
and, a pilgrim of love, will seek this unknown princess through- 
out the world." 

To escape from the tower in the da}*, when every one was 
awake, might be a difficult matter ; but at night the palace was 
slightly guarded, for no one apprehended any attempt of the 
kind from the prince, who had always been so passive in his 
captivity. How was he to guide himself, however, in his dark- 
ling flight, being ignorant of the country ? He bethought him 
of the owl, who was accustomed to roam at night, and must 
know every by-lane and secret pass. Seeking him in his her- 
mitage, he questioned him touching his knowledge of the land. 
Upon this the owl put on a mighty self-important look. 

-- You must know, O prince," said he, -' that we owls are of 
a very ancient and extensive family, though rather fallen to 
decay, and possess ruinous castles and palaces in all parts of 
Spain. There is scarcely a tower of the mountains, or fortress 
of the plains, or an old citadel of a city but has some brother, 
or uncle, or cousin quartered in it ; and in going the rounds 
to visit these my numerous kindred I have pryed into every 
nook and corner, and made myself acquainted with every secret 
of the land." 

The prince was overjoyed to find the owl so deeply versed 
in topography, and now informed him, in confidence, of his 
tender passion and his intended elopement, urging him to be 
his companion and counsellor. 

" Go to ! " said the owl, with a look of displeasure. " Am I 
a bird to engage in a love affair ; I whose whole time is devoted 
to meditation and the moon ! " 

"Be not offended, most solemn owl! " replied the prince. 
" Abstract thyself for a time from meditation and the moon, 
and aid me in my flight, and thou shalt have whatever heart 
can wish." 

"I have that alread}'," said the owl. "A few mice are 
sufficient for my frugal table, and this hole in the wall is spa- 
cious enough for my studies, and what more does a philosopher 
like myself desire ? " 

u Bethink thee, most wise owl. that while moping in thy cell 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 137 

and gazing at the moon all thy talents are lost to the world. I 
shall one day be a sovereign prince, and may advance thee to 
some post of honor and dignity." 

The owl, though a philosopher and above the ordinary wants 
of life, was not above ambition, so he was finally prevailed 
upon to elope with the prince, and be his guide and Mentor in 
his pilgrimage. 

The plans of a lover are promptly executed. The prince 
collected all his jewels, and concealed them about his person as 
travelling funds. That very night he lowered himself by his 
scarf from a balcony of the tower, clambered over the outer 
walls of the Generalitfe, and, guided by the owl, made good his 
escape before morning to the mountains. 

He now held a council with his Mentor as to his future 
course. 

"Might I advise," said the owl, " I would recommend you 
to repair to Seville. You must know that many } T ears since 1 
was on a visit to an uncle, an owl of great dignity and power, 
who lived in a ruined wing of the Alcazar of that place. In 
my hoverings at night over the city, I frequently remarked a 
light burning in a lonely tower. At length I alighted on the 
battlements, and found it to proceed from the lamp of an Ara- 
bian magician. He was surrounded by his magic books, and 
on his shoulder was perched his familiar, an ancient raven, who 
had come with him from Egypt. I became acquainted with 
that raven, and owe to him a great part of the knowledge I 
possess. The magician is since dead, but the raven still in- 
habits the tower, for these birds are of wonderful long life. I 
would advise you, O prince, to seek that raven, for he is a 
soothsayer and a conjurer, and deals in the black art, for which 
all ravens, and especially those of Egypt, are renowned." 

The prince was struck with the wisdom of this advice, and 
accordingly bent his course towards Seville. He travelled only 
in the night, to accommodate his companion, and lay by during 
the day in some dark cavern or mouldering watch-tower, for 
the owl knew every hiding hole of the kind in the country, and 
had a most antiquarian taste for ruins. 

At length, one morning at day-break, the} T reached the city 
of Seville, where the owl, who hated the glare and bustle of 
crowded streets, halted without the gate, and took up his quar- 
ters in a hollow tree. 

The prince entered the gate, and readily found the magic 
tower, which rose above the houses of the city as a palm-tree 
rises above the shrubs of the desert. It was, in fact? the same 



138 THE ALHAMBRA. 

tower known at the present day as the Giralda, the famous 
Moorish tower of Seville. 

The prince ascended by a great winding staircase to the 
summit of the tower, where he found the cabalistic raven, an 
old, mysterious, gray-headed bird, ragged in feather, with a 
film over one eye that gave him the glare of a spectre. He 
was perched on one leg, with his head turned on one side, and 
poring with his remaining eye on a diagram described on the 
pavement. 

The prince approached him with the awe and reverence 
naturally inspired by his venerable appearance and supernatu- 
ral wisdom. "Pardon me, most ancient and darkly wise 
raven," exclaimed he, " if for a moment I interrupt those 
studies which are the wonder of the world. You behold before 
you a votaiy of love, who would fain seek counsel how to ob- 
tain the object of his passion." 

" In other words," said the raven, with a significant look, 
"you seek to try my skill in palmistry. Come, show me your 
hand, and let me decipher the mysterious lines of fortune." 

" Excuse me," saicl the prince, " I come not to pry into the 
decrees of fate, which arc hidden by Allah from the eyes of 
mortals. I am a pilgrim of love, and seek but to find a clew to 
the object of my pilgrimage." 

" And can you be at any loss for an object in amorous 
Andalusia?" said the old raven, leering upon him with his 
single eye. " Above all, can you be at a loss in wanton Seville, 
where black-eyed damsels dance the zambra under every orange 
grove ? ' ' 

The prince blushed, and was somewhat shocked at hearing 
an old bird, with one foot in the grave, talk thus loosely. 
" Believe me," said he gravely, " I am on none such light and 
vagrant errand as thou dost insinuate. The black-eyed dam- 
sels of Andalusia who dance among the orange groves of the 
Guadalquiver, are as naught to me. I seek one unknown but 
immaculate beauty, the original of this picture, and I beseech 
thee, most potent raven, if it be within the scope of thy knowl- 
edge, or the reach of thy art, inform me where she may be 
found." 

The gray-headed raven was rebuked by the gravity of the 
prince. "What know I," replied he dryly, "of } T outh and 
beauty? My visits are to the old and withered, not the young 
and fair. The harbinger of fate am I, who croak bodings of 
death from the chimney top, and flap ru} r wings at the sick 
man's window. You must seek elsewhere for tidings of your 
unknown beauty." 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 139 

" And where am I to seek, if not among the sons of wisdom, 
versed in the book of destiny ? A royal prince am I, fated by 
the stars, and sent on a mysterious enterprise, on which may 
hang the destiny of empires." 

When the raven heard that it was a matter of vast moment, 
in which the stars took interest, he changed his tone and 
manner, and listened with profound attention to the story of 
the prince. When it was concluded, he replied, " Touching 
this princess, I can give thee no information of myself, for my 
flight is not among gardens or around ladies' bowers ; but hie 
thee to Cordova, seek the palm-tree of the great Abderahman, 
which stands in the court of the principal mosque ; at the foot 
of it jo\x will find a great traveller, who has visited all coun- 
tries and courts, and been a favorite with queens and prin- 
cesses. He will give you tidings of the object of your 
search." 

tu Many thanks for this precious information," said the 
prince. " Farewell, most venerable conjurer." 

" Farewell, pilgrim of love," said the raven dryly, and again 
fell to pondering on the diagram. 

The prince sallied forth from Seville, sought his fellow- 
traveller the owl, who was still dozing in the hollow tree, and 
set off for Cordova. 

He approached it along hanging gardens, and orange and 
citron groves overlooking the fair valley of the Guadalquiver. 
When arrived at its gates, the owl flew up to a dark hole in 
the wall, and the prince proceeded in quest of the palm tree 
planted in days of yore by the great Abderahman. It stood 
in the midst of the great court of the Mosque, towering from 
amidst orange and cypress trees. Dervises and Faquirs were 
seated in groups under the cloisters of the court, and many of 
the faithful were performing their ablutions at the fountains, 
before entering the Mosque. 

At the foot of the palm-tree was a crowd listening to the 
words of one who appeared to be talking with great volubility. 
This, said the prince to himself, must be the great traveller 
who is to give me tidings of the unknown princess. He min- 
gled in the crowd, but was astonished to perceive that they 
were all listening to a parrot, who, with his bright green coat, 
pragmatical eye, and consequential topknot, had the air of a 
bird on excellent terms with himself. 

" How is this," said the prince to one of the bystanders, 
" that so many grave persons can be delighted with the garru- 
lity of a chattering bird ? " 



140 THE ALHAMBRA. 

" You know not of whom you speak," said the other ; "this 
parrot is a descendant of the famous parrot of Persia, renowned 
for his story-telling talent. He has all the learning of the East 
at the tip of his tongue, and can quote poetiy as fast as he can 
talk. He has visited various foreign courts, where he has been 
considered an oracle of erudition. He has been a universal 
favorite also with the fair sex, who have a vast admiration for 
erudite parrots that can quote poetry." 

"Enough," said the prince, "I will have some private talk 
with this distinguished traveller." 

He sought a private interview, and expounded the nature of 
his errand. He had scarcely mentioned it when the parrot 
burst into a fit. of dry rickety laughter, that absolutely brought 
tears in his ej'es. " Excuse my mirth," said he,' "but the mere 
mention of love alwa} 7 s sets me laughing." 

The prince was shocked at this ill-timed merriment. " Is 
not love," said he, " the great mystery of nature, — the secret 
principle of life, — the universal bond of sympathy? " 

44 A fig's end ! " cried the parrot, interrupting him. " Pry 'thee 
where hast thou learnt this sentimental jargon? Trust me. 
love is quite out of vogue ; one never hears of it in the company 
of wits and people of refinement." 

The prince sighed as he recalled the different language of his 
friend the dove. But this parrot, thought he, has lived about 
court ; he affects the wit and the fine gentleman ; he knows 
nothing of the thing called love. 

Unwilling to provoke any more ridicule of the sentiment 
which filled his heart, he now directed his inquiries to the 
immediate purport of his visit. 

"Tell me," said he, "most accomplished parrot, thou who 
hast eveiywhere been admitted to the most secret bowers of 
beauty, hast thou in the course of thy travels met with the 
original of this portrait ? " 

The parrot took the picture in his claw, turned his head from 
side to side, and examined it curiously with either eye. "Upon 
my honor," said he, "a very pretty face ; very pretty. But 
then one sees so many pretty women in one's travels that one 
can hardly — but hold — bless me ! now I look at it again — 
sure enough, this is the princess Aldegonda : how could I forget 
one that is so prodigious a favorite with me? " 

"The princess Aldegonda! " echoed the prince, " and where 
is she to be found ? ' ' 

" Softly — softly," said the parrot, " easier to be found than 
gained. She is the only daughter of the Christian king who 



LEGEND OF PBINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 141 

reigns at Toledo, and is shut up from the world uutil her 
seventeenth birthday, on account of some prediction of those 
meddlesome fellows, the astrologers. You'll not get a sight of 
her, no mortal man can see her. I was admitted to her pres- 
ence to entertain her, and I assure you, on the word of a parrot 
who has seen the world, I have conversed with much sillier 
princesses in my time." 

" A word in confidence, my dear parrot," said the prince. 
" I am heir to a kingdom, and shall one day sit upon a throne. 
I see that you are a bird of parts and understand the world. 
Help me to gain possession of this princess and I will advance 
you to some distinguished post about court." 

" With all my heart," said the parrot ; " but let it be a sine- 
cure if possible, for we wits have a great dislike to labor." 

Arrangements were promptly made ; the prince sallied forth 
from Cordova through the same gate by which he had entered ; 
called the owl down from a hole in the wall, introduced him 
to his new travelling companion as a brother savant, and away 
they set off on their journey. 

They travelled much more slowly than accorded with the 
impatience of the prince, but the parrot was accustomed to 
high life, and did not like to be disturbed early in the morning. 
The owl, on the other hand, was for sleeping at mid-day, and 
lost a great deal of time by his long siestas. His antiquarian 
taste also was in the way ; for he insisted on pausing and in- 
specting every ruin, and had long legendary tales to tell about 
every old tower and castle in the country. The prince had 
supposed that he and the parrot, being both birds of learning, 
could delight in each other's society, but never had he been 
more mistaken. They were eternally bickering. The one was 
a wit, the other a philosopher. The parrot quoted poetry, was 
critical on new readings, and eloquent on small points of eru- 
dition ; the owl treated all such knowledge as trifling, and 
relished nothing but metaphysics. Then the parrot would sing 
songs and repeat bon-mots, and crack jokes upon his solemn 
neighbor, and laugh outrageously at his own wit ; all which 
the owl considered a grievous invasion of his dignity, and 
would scowl, and sulk, and swell, and sit silent for a whole day 
together. 

The prince heeded not the wranglings of his companions, 
being wrapped up in the dreams of his own fancy, and the 
contemplation of the portrait of the beautiful princess. In this 
way they journeyed through the stern passes of the Sierra Mo- 
rena, across the sunburnt plains of La Mancha and Gastile, and 



142 THE ALHAMBBA. 

along the banks of the " Golden Tagus," which winds its wizard 
mazes over one-half of Spain and Portugal. At length they 
came in sight of a strong city with walls and towers, built on 
a rocky promontory, round the foot of which the Tagus circled 
with brawling violence. 

''Behold," exclaimed the owl, "the ancient and renowned 
city of Toledo ; a city famous for its antiquities. Behold those 
venerable domes and towers, hoary with time, and clothed with 
legendary grandeur ; in which so many of my ancestors have 
meditated — " 

u Pish," cried the parrot, interrupting his solemn antiquarian 
rapture, "what have we to do with antiquities, and legends, 
and your ancestors? Behold, what is more to the purpose, be- 
hold the abode of youth and beauty, — behold, at length, oh 
prince, the abode of your long sought princess." 

The prince looked in the direction indicated by the parrot, 
and beheld, in a delightful green meadow on the banks of the 
Tagus, a stately palace rising from amidst the bowers of a 
delicious garden. It was just such a place as had been de- 
scribed by the dove as the residence of the original of the pic- 
ture. He gazed at it with a throbbing heart: "Perhaps at 
this moment," thought he, "the beautiful princess is sporting 
beneath those shady bowers, or pacing with delicate step those 
stately terraces, or reposing beneath those lofty roofs ! " As he 
looked more narrowly, he perceived that the walls of the gar- 
den were of great height, so as to defy access, while numbers 
of armed guards patrolled around them. 

The prince turned to the parrot. " Oh most accomplished of 
birds," said he, "thou hast the gift of human speech. Hie 
thee to yon garden ; seek the idol of my soul, and tell her that 
prince Ahmed, a pilgrim of love, and guided by the stars, has 
arrived in quest of her on the flowery banks of the Tagus." 

The parrot, proud of his embassy, flew away to the garden, 
mounted above its lofty walls, and, after soaring for a time 
over the lawns and groves, alighted on the balcony of a pavilion 
that overhung the river. Here, looking in at the casement, he 
beheld the princess reclining on a couch, with her eyes fixed on 
a paper, while tears gently stole after each other down- her 
pallid cheek. 

Pluming his wings for a moment, adjusting his bright green 
coat, and elevating his topknot, the parrot perched himself beside 
her with a gallant air ; then assuming a tenderness of tone, — 

" Dry thy tears, most beautiful of princesses," said he, " I 
come to bring solace to thy heart." 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 143 

The princess was startled on hearing a voice, but turning 
and seeing nothing but a little green-coated bird bobbing and 
bowing before her: — "Alas! what solace canst thou yield," 
said she, " seeing thou art but a parrot? " 

The parrot was nettled at the question. " I have consoled 
many beautiful ladies in my time," said he ; " but let that pass. 
At present, I come ambassador from a royal prince. Know 
that Ahmed, the prince of Granada, has arrived in quest of 
thee, and is encamped even now on the flowery banks of the 
Tagus." 

The eyes of the beautiful princess sparkled at these words, 
even brighter than the diamonds in her coronet. "O sweetest 
of parrots," cried she, "joyful indeed are thy tidings; for I 
was faint, and weary, and sick almost unto death, with doubt 
of the constancy of Ahmed. Hie thee back, and tell him that 
the words of his letter are engraven in my heart, and his 
poetry has been the food of my soul. Tell him, however, that 
he must prepare to prove his love by force of arms ; to-morrow 
is my seventeenth birthday, when the king, my father, holds a 
great tournament ; several princes are to enter the lists, and my 
hand is to be the prize of the victor." 

The parrot again took wing, and, rustling through the groves, 
flew back to where the prince awaited his return. The rapture 
of Ahmed on finding the original of his adored portrait, and 
finding her kind and true, can only be conceived by those 
favored mortals who have had the good fortune to realize day 
dreams, and turn shadows into substance. Still there was one 
thing that alloyed his transport, — this impending tournament. 
In fact, the banks of the Tagus were already glittering with 
arms, and resounding with trumpets of the various knights, 
who with proud retinues were prancing on towards Toledo to 
attend the ceremonial. The same star that had controlled the 
destiny of the prince, had governed that of the princess, and 
until her seventeenth birthday, she had been shut up from the 
world, to guard her from the tender passion. The fame of her 
charms, however, had been enhanced, rather than obscured, by 
this seclusion. Several powerful princes had contended for 
her alliance, and her father, who was a king of wondrous 
shrewdness, to avoid making enemies by showing partiality, 
had referred them to the arbitrament of arms. Among the 
rival candidates, were several renowned for strength and 
prowess. What a predicament for the unfortunate Ahmed, 
unprovided as he was with weapons, and unskilled in the exer- 
cises of chivalry. " Luckless prince that I am ! " said lie, " to 



144 THE ALHAMBBA. 

have been brought up in seclusion, under the eye of a philoso- 
pher ! of what avail are algebra and philosophy in affairs of 
love ! alas, Ebon Bonabbon, why hast thou neglected to instruct 
me in the management of arms ? ' ' Upon this the owl broke 
silence prefacing his harangue with a pious ejaculation, for he 
was a devout Mussulman : 

"Allah Achbar! 'God is great,'" exclaimed he, "in his 
hands are all secret things, he alone governs the destiny of 
princes ! Know, O prince, that this land is full of mysteries, 
hidden from all but those who, like myself, can grope after 
knowledge in the dark. Know that in the neighboring moun- 
tains there is a cave, and in that cave there is an iron table, 
and on that table lies a suit of magic armor, and beside that 
table stands a spell-bound steed, which have been shut up there 
for many generations." 

The prince stared with wonder, while the owl blinking his 
huge round eyes and erecting his horns proceeded : 

" Many years since, I accompanied my father to these parts 
on a tour of his estates, and we sojourned in that cave, and 
thus became I acquainted with the mystery. It is a tradition 
in our family, which I have heard from my grandfather when 
I was yet but a very little owlet, that this armor belonged to 
a Moorish magician, who took refuge in this cavern when 
Toledo was captured by the Christians, and died here, leaving 
his steed and weapons under a mystic spell, never to be used 
but by a Moslem, and by him only from sunrise to mid-clay. 
In that interval, whoever uses them, will overthrow every 
opponent." 

" Enough, let us seek this cave," exclaimed Ahmed. 

Guided by his legendary Mentor, the prince found the 
cavern, which was in one of the wildest recesses of those rocky 
cliffs which rose around Toledo ; none but the mousing eye of 
an owl or an antiquary could have discovered the entrance to 
it. A sepulchral lamp- of everlasting oil shed a solemn light 
through the place. On an iron table in the centre of the 
cavern lay the magic armor, against it leaned the lance, and 
beside it stood an Arabian steed, caparisoned for the field, but 
motionless as a statue. The armor was bright and unsullied, 
as it had gleamed in days of old ; the steed in as good con- 
dition as if just from the pasture, and when Ahmed laid his 
hand upon his neck, he pawed the ground and gave a loud 
neigh of joy that shook the walls of the cavern. Thus pro- 
vided with horse to ride and weapon to wear, the prince deter- 
mined to defy the field at the impending tourney. 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 145 

The eventful morning arrived. The lists for the combat 
were prepared in the Yega or plain just below the cliff-built 
walls of Toledo. Here were erected stages and galleries for 
the spectators, covered with rich tapestry and sheltered from 
the sun by silken awnings. All the beauties of the laud were 
assembled in those galleries, while below pranced plumed 
knights with their pages and esquires, among whom figured 
conspicuously the princes who were to contend in the tourney. 
All the beauties of the land, however, were eclipsed, when the 
princess Aldegonda appeared in the royal pavilion, and for 
the first time broke forth upon the gaze of an admiring world. 
A murmur of wonder ran through the crowd at her transcend- 
ant loveliness ; and the princes who were candidates for her 
hand merely on the faith of her reported charms, now felt ten- 
fold ardor for the conflict. 

The princess, however, had a troubled look. The color came 
and went from her cheek, and her eye wandered with a restless 
and unsatisfied expression over the plumed throng of knights. 
The trumpets were about sounding for the encounter when a 
herald announced the arrival of a stranger knight, and Ahmed 
rode into the field. A steeled helmet studded with gems rose 
above his turban ; his cuirass was embossed with gold ; his 
cimeter and dagger were of the workmanship of Fay, and 
flamed with precious stones. A round shield was at his shoul- 
der, and in his hand he bore the lance of charmed virtue. The 
caparison of his Arabian was richly embroidered, and swept 
the ground ; and the proud animal pranced and snuffed the air, 
and neighed with joy at once more beholding the array of arms. 
The lofty and graceful demeanor of the prince struck every 
eye, and when his appellation was announced, " The pilgrim of 
love," a universal flutter and agitation prevailed amongst the 
fair dames in the galleries. 

When Ahmed presented himself at the lists, however, they 
were closed against him ; none but princes, he was told, were 
admitted to the contest. He declared his name and rank. Still 
worse, he was a Moslem, and could not engage in a tourne} 7 
where the hand of a Christian princess was the prize. 

The rival princes surrounded him with haughty and men- 
acing aspects, and one of insolent demeanor and Herculean 
frame sneered at his light and youthful form, and scoffed at 
his amorous appellation. The ire of the prince was roused ; he 
defied his rival to the encounter. The}' took distance, wheeled, 
and charged ; at the first touch of the magic lance the brawny 
scoffer was tilted from his saddle. Here the prince would have 



146 THE ALHAMBRA. 

paused, but alas ! be bad to deal witb a demoniac borse and 
armor : once in action, notbing could control them. The 
Arabian steed charged into the thickest of the throng : the 
lance overturned every thing that presented ; the gentle prince 
was carried pell-mell about the field, strewing it with high and 
low, gentle and simple, and grieving at his own involuntary 
exploits. The king stormed and raged at this outrage on his 
subjects and his guests. He ordered out all his guards — they 
were unhorsed as fast as they came up. The king threw off his 
robes, grasped buckler and lance, and rode forth to awe the 
stranger with the presence of majesty itself. Alas, majesty 
fared no better than the vulgar ; the steed and lance were no 
respecters of persons; to the dismay of Ahmed, he was borne 
full tilt against the king, and in a moment the royal heels were 
in the air, and the crown was rolling in the dust. 

At this moment the sun reached the meridian ; the magic 
spell resumed its power. The Arabian steed scoured across 
the plain, leaped the barrier, plunged into the Tagus, swam its 
raging current, bore the prince, breathless and amazed, to the 
cavern, and resumed his station like a statue beside the iron 
table. The prince dismounted right gladly, and replaced the 
armor, to abide the further decrees of fate. Then seating him 
self in the cavern, he ruminated on the desperate state to 
which this bedeviled steed and armor had reduced him. Neve) 
should he dare to show his face at Toledo, after inflicting such 
disgrace upon its chivalry, and such an outrage on its king. 
What, too, would the princess think of so rude and riotous an 
achievement ! Full of anxiety, he sent forth his winged mes- 
sengers to gather tidings. The parrot resorted to all the public 
places and crowded resorts of the city, and soon returned with 
a world of gossip. All Toledo was in consternation. The 
princess had been borne off senseless to the palace ; the tourna- 
ment had ended in confusion ; every one was talking of the 
sudden apparition, prodigious exploits, and strange disappear- 
ance of the Moslem knight. Some pronounced him a Moorish 
magician ; others thought him a demon who had assumed a 
human shape ; while others related traditions of enchanted 
warriors hidden in the caves of the mountains, and thought it 
might be one of these, who had made a sudden irruption from 
his den. All agreed that no mere ordinary mortal could have 
wrought such wonders, or unhorsed such accomplished and stal- 
wart Christian warriors. 

The owl flew forth at night, and hovered about the dusky 
city, perching on the roofs and chimneys. He then wheeled 



LEGEND OF PRINCE ARMED AL KAMEL. 147 

his flight up to the royal palace, which stood on the rocky 
summit of Toledo, and went prowling about its terraces and 
battlements, eaves-dropping at every cranny, and glaring in 
with his big goggling eyes at every window where there was a 
light, so as to throw two or three maids of honor into fits. It 
was not until the gray dawn began to peer above the moun- 
tains that he returned from his mousing expedition, and related 
to the prince what he had seen. 

"As I was prying about one of the loftiest towers of the 
palace," said he, "I beheld through a casement a beautiful 
princess. She was reclining on a couch, with attendants and 
physicians around her, but she would none of their ministry and 
relief. When they retired, I beheld her draw forth a letter 
from her bosom, and read, and kiss it, and give way to loud 
lamentations ; at which, philosopher as I am, I could not but be 
greatly moved." 

The tender heart of Ahmed was distressed at these tidings. 
" Too true were thy words, oh sage Ebon Bonabbon ! " cried he. 
" Care and sorrow, and sleepless nights are the lot of lovers. 
Allah preserve the princess from the blighting influence of this 
thing called love." 

Further intelligence from Toledo corroborated the report of 
the owl. The city was a prey to uneasiness and alarm. The 
princess was conveyed to the highest tower of the palace, every 
avenue to which was strongly guarded. In the mean time, a 
devouring melancholy had seized upon her, of which no one 
could divine the cause. She refused food, and turned a deaf 
ear to every consolation. The most skilful physicians had 
essayed their art in vain ; it was thought some magic spell had 
been practised upon her, and the king made proclamation, 
declaring that whoever should effect her cure, should receive 
the richest jewel in the ro}'al treasury. 

When the owl, who was dozing in a corner, heard of this 
proclamation, he rolled his large eyes and looked more myste- 
rious than ever. 

"Allah Achbar!" exclaimed he. "Happy the man that 
shall effect that cure, should he but know what to choose from 
the royal treasur}\" 

"What mean you, most reverend owl? " said Ahmed. 

"Hearken, O prince, to what I shall relate. We owls, you 
must know, are a learned body, and much given to dark and 
dusty research. During my late prowling at night about the 
domes and turrets of Toledo, I discovered a college of antiqua- 
rian owls, who hold their meetings in a great vaulted tower 



148 THE ALHAMBRA. 

where the royal treasure is deposited. Here they were discuss- 
ing the forms and inscriptions, and designs of ancient gems and 
jewels, and of golden and silver vessels, heaped up in the treas- 
ury, the fashion of every country and age : but mostly they 
were interested about certain relics and talismans, that have 
remained in the treasury since the time of Roderick the Goth. 
Among these, was a box of shittim wood, secured by bands 
of steel of Oriental workmanship, and inscribed with mystic 
characters known only to the learned few. This box and its 
inscription had occupied the college for several sessions, and 
had caused much long and grave dispute. At the time of my 
visit, a very ancient owl, who had recently arrived from Egypt, 
was seated on the lid of the box lecturing upon the inscription, 
and proved from it, that the coffer contained the silken carpet 
of the throne of Solomon the wise : which doubtless had been 
brought to Toledo by the Jews, who took refuge there after the 
downfall of Jerusalem." 

When the owl had concluded his antiquarian harangue, the 
prince remained for a time absorbed in thought. u I have 
heard," said he, " from the sage Ebon Bonabbon, of the won- 
derful properties of that talisman, which disappeared at the 
fall of Jerusalem, and was supposed to be lost to mankind. 
Doubtless it remains a sealed mystery to the Christians of 
Toledo. If I can get possession of that carpet, my fortune is 
secure." 

The next day the prince laid aside his rich attire, and ar- 
rayed himself in the simple garb of an Arab of the desert. He 
dyed his complexion to a tawny hue, and no one could have 
recognized in him the splendid warrior who had caused such 
admiration and dismay at the tournament. With staff in 
hand and scrip by his side, and a small pastoral reed, he re- 
paired to Toledo, and presenting himself at the gate of the 
roj'al palace, announced himself as a candidate for the reward 
offered for the cure of the princess. The guards would have 
driven him away with blows : " What can a vagrant Arab like 
thyself pretend to do," said they, "■ in a case where the most 
learned of the land have failed?" The king, however, over- 
heard the tumult, and ordered the Arab to be brought into his 
presence. 

" Most potent king," said Ahmed, " you behold before you a 
Bedouin Arab, the greater part of whose life has been passed 
in the solitudes of the desert. Those solitudes, it is well 
known, are the haunts of demons and evil spirits, who beset 
us poor shepherds in our lonely watchings, enter into and pos- 



LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 149 

sess out flocks and herds, and sometimes render even the 
patient camel furious. Against these, our countercharm is 
music ; and we have legendary airs handed down from genera- 
tion to generation, that we chant and pipe to cast forth these 
evil spirits. I am of a gifted line, and possess this power in its 
fullest force. If it be any evil influence of the kind that holds 
a spell over thy daughter, I pledge my head to free her from 
its sway." 

The king, who was a man of understanding, and knew the 
wonderful secrets possessed by the Arabs, was inspired with 
hope by the confident language of the prince. He conducted 
him immediately to the lofty tower secured by several doors, 
in the summit of which was the chamber of the princess. The 
windows opened upon a terrace with balustrades, commanding 
a view over Toledo and all the surrounding country. The win- 
dows were darkened, for the princess lay within, a prey to a 
devouring grief that refused all alleviation. 

The prince seated himself on the terrace, and performed 
several wild Arabian airs on his pastoral pipe, which he had 
learnt from his attendants in the Generaliffe at Granada. The 
princess continued insensible, and the doctors, who were 
present, shook their heads, and smiled with incredibility and 
contempt. At length the prince laid aside the reed, and to a 
simple melody chanted the amatory verses of the letter which 
had declared his passion. 

The princess recognized the strain. A fluttering joy stole 
to her heart ; she raised her head and listened ; tears rushed to 
her eyes and streamed down her cheeks ; her bosom rose and 
fell with a tumult of emotions. She would have asked for the 
minstrel to be brought into her presence, but maiden coyness 
held her silent. The king read her wishes, and at his command 
Ahmed was conducted into the chamber. The lovers were 
discreet : they but exchanged glances, yet those glances spoke 
volumes. Never was triumph of music more complete. The 
rose had returned to the soft cheek of the princess, the fresh- 
ness to her lip, and the dewy light to her languishing eye. 

All the physicians present stared at each other with aston- 
ishment. The king regarded the Arab minstrel with admiration, 
mixed with awe. "' Wonderful youth," exclaimed he, "thou 
shalt henceforth be the first physician of my court, and no other 
prescription will I take but thy melody. For the present, re- 
ceive thy reward, the most precious jewel in my treasury." 

" king," replied Ahmed, " I care not for silver, or gold, or 
precious stones. One relic hast thou in thy treasury, handed 



150 THE ALHAMBRA. 

clown from the Moslems who once owned Toledo. A box of 
sandalwood containing a silken carpet. Give me that box, 
and I am conteDt." 

All present were surprised at the moderation of the Arab ; 
and still more, when the box of sandalwood was brought and 
the carpet drawn forth. It was of fine green silk, covered 
with Hebrew and Chaldaic characters. The court physicians 
looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and smiled at 
the simplicity of this new practitioner, who could be content 
with so paltry a fee. 

" This carpet," said the prince, " once covered the throne of 
Solomon the wise ; it is worthy of being placed beneath the feet 
of beauty." 

So saying, he spread it on the terrace beneath an ottoman 
that had been brought forth for the princess ; then seating him- 
self at her feet, — 

"Who," said he, "shall counteract what is written in the 
book of fate? Behold the prediction of the astrologers verified. 
Kuow, oh king, that your daughter and I have long loved each 
other in secret. Behold in me the pilgrim of love." 

These words were scarcely from his lips, when the carpet 
rose in the air, bearing off the prince and princess. The king 
and the physicians gazed after it with open mouths and strain- 
ing eyes, until it became a little speck on the white bosom of a 
cloud, and then disappeared in the blue vault of heaven. 

The kins; in a rao-e summoned his treasurer. " How is this," 
said he, " that thou hast suffered an infidel to get possession of 
such a talisman? " 

"Alas! sire, we knew not its nature, nor could we decipher 
the inscription of the box. If it be indeed the carpet of the 
throne of the wise Solomon, it is possessed of magic power, 
and can transport its owner from place to place through the 
air." 

The king assembled a mighty army, and set off for Granada 
in pursuit of the fugitives. His march was long and toilsome. 
Encamping in the Vega, he sent a herald to demand restitu- 
tion of his daughter. The king himself came forth with all 
his court to meet him. In the king, he beheld the Arab min- 
strel, for Ahmed had succeeded to the throne on the death of 
his father, and the beautiful Aldegonda was his Sultana. 

The Christian king was easily pacified, when he found that 
his daughter was suffered to continue in her faith : not that he 
was particularly pious ; but religion is always a point of pride 
and etiquette with princes. Instead of bloody battles, there 



THE LEGEND OF THE BOSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 151 

was a succession of feasts and rejoicings ; after which, the king 
returned well pleased to Toledo, and the youthful couple con- 
tinued to reign as happily as wisely, in the Alhambra. 

It is proper to add, that the owl and the parrot had severally 
followed the prince by easy stages to Granada : the former 
travelling by night, and stopping at the various hereditary 
possessions of his family ; the latter figuring in the gay circles 
of every town and city on his route. 

Ahmed gratefully requited the services which they had ren- 
dered him on his pilgrimage. He appointed the owl his prime 
minister ; the parrot his master of ceremonies. It is needless 
to say that never was a realm more sagely administered, or a 
court conducted with more exact punctilio. 



THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA; 

OR, 

THE PAGE AND THE GER-FALCON". 

For some time after the surrender of Granada by the Moors, 
that delightful city was a frequent and favorite residence of 
the Spanish sovereigns, until they were frightened away by 
successive shocks of earthquakes, which toppled down various 
houses and made the old Moslem towers rock to their founda- 
tion. 

Many, many years then rolled away, during which Granada 
was rarely honored by a royal guest. The palaces of the 
nobility remained silent and shut up ; and the Alhambra, like 
a slighted beauty, sat in mournful desolation among her 
neglected gardens. The tower of the Infantas, once the resi- 
dence of the three beautiful Moorish princesses, partook of 
the general desolation ; and the spider spun her web athwart the 
gilded vault, and bats and owls nestled in those chambers that 
had been graced by the presence of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zora- 
hayda. The neglect of the tower may partly have been owing 
to some superstitious notions of the neighbors. It was 
rumored that the spirit of the youthful Zorahayda, who had 
perished in that tower, was often seen b}' moonlight, seated 
beside the fountain in the hall, or moaning about the battle- 
ments, and that the notes of her silver lute would be heard at 
midnight by wayfarers passing along the glen. 



152 THE ALHAMBRA. 

At length the city of Granada was once more enlivened by 
the royal presence. All the world knows that Philip V. was 
the first Bourbon that swayed the Spanish sceptre. All the 
world knows that he married, in second nuptials, Elizabetta 
or Isabella, (for they are the same,) the beautiful princess of 
Parma ; and all the world knows, that by this chain of contin- 
gencies, a French prince and an Italian princess were seated 
together on the Spanish throne. For the reception of this illus- 
trious pair, the Alhambra was repaired and fitted up with all 
possible expedition. The arrival of the court changed the 
whole aspect of the lately deserted place. The clangor of drum 
and trumpet, the tramp of steed about the avenues and outer 
court, the glitter of arms and display of banners about barbi- 
can and battlement, recalled the ancient and warlike glories of 
the fortress. A softer spirit, however, reigned within the royal 
palace. There was the rustling of robes, and the cautious 
tread and murmuring voice of reverential courtiers about the 
antechambers ; a loitering of pages and maids of honor about 
the gardens, and the sound of music stealing from open case- 
ments. 

Among those who attended in the train of the monarchs, was 
a favorite page of the queen, named Ruyz de Alarcon. To 
say that he was a favorite page of the queen, was at once to 
speak his eulogium, for every one in the suite of the stately 
Elizabetta was chosen for grace, and beauty, and accomplish- 
ments. He was just turned of eighteen, light and lithe of 
form, and graceful as a young Antinous. To the queen he was 
all deference and respect, yet he was at heart a roguish strip- 
ling, petted and spoiled by the ladies about the court, and 
experienced in the ways of women far beyond his years. 

This loitering page was one morning rambling about the 
groves of the Generaliffe, which overlook the grounds of the 
Alhambra. He had taken with him for his amusement, a 
favorite ger-falcon of the queen. In the course of his rambles, 
seeing a bird rising from a thicket, he unhooded the hawk and 
let him fly. The falcon towered high in the air, made a swoop 
at his quarry, but missing it, soared away regardless of the calls 
of the page. The latter followed the truant bird with his eye 
in its capricious flight, until he saw it alight upon the battle- 
ments of a remote and lonel}' tower, in the outer wall of the 
Alhambra, built on the edge of a ravine that separated the 
royal fortress from the grounds of the Generaliffe. It was, in 
fact, the " tower of the Princesses." 

The page descended into the ravine, and approached the 



THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBBA. 153 

tower, but it had no entrance from the glen, and its lofty height 
rendered any attempt to scale it fruitless. Seeking one of the 
gates of the fortress, therefore, he made a wide circuit to that 
side of the tower facing within the walls. A small garden en- 
closed by a trellis-work of reeds overhung with myrtle lay before 
the tower. Opening a wicket, the page passed between beds of 
flowers and thickets of roses to the door. It was closed and 
bolted. A crevice in the door gave him a peep into the interior. 
There was a small Moorish hall with fretted walls, light mar- 
ble columns, and an alabaster fountain surrounded with flow- 
ers. In the centre hung a gilt cage containing a singing bird ; 
beneath it, on a chair, lay a tortoise-shell cat among reels of 
silk and other articles of female labor, and a guitar, decorated 
with ribbons, leaned against the fountain. 

Ruyz de Alarcon was struck with these traces of female 
taste and elegance in a lonely, and, as he had supposed, 
deserted tower. They reminded him of the tales of enchanted 
halls, current in the Alhambra ; and the tortoise-shell cat 
might be some spell-bound princess. 

He knocked gently at the door, — a beautiful face peeped out 
from a little window above, but was instantly withdrawn. He 
waited, expecting that the door would be opened; but he 
waited in vain: no footstep was to be heard within, all was 
silent. Had his senses deceived him, or was this beautiful ap- 
parition the fairy of the tower? He knocked again, and more 
loudly. After a little while, the beaming face once more 
peeped forth : it was that of a blooming damsel of fifteen. 

The page immediately doffed his plumed bonnet, and 
entreated in the most courteous accents to be permitted to 
ascend the tower in pursuit of his falcon. 

" I dare not open the door, Senor," replied the little damsel, 
blushing ; " my aunt has forbidden it." 

"J do beseech you, fair maid; it is the favorite falcon of 
the queen ; I dare not return to the palace without it." 

" Are you, then, one of the cavaliers of the court? " 

" I am, fair maid ; but I shall lose the queen's favor and my 
place if I lose this hawk." 

" Santa Maria ! It is against you cavaliers of the court that 
my aunt has charged me especially to bar the door." 

''Against wicked cavaliers, doubtless; but I am none of 
those, but a simple, harmless page, who will be ruined and 
undone if you deny me this small request." 

The heart of the little damsel was touched by the distress of 
the page. It was a thousand pities he should be ruined for the 



154 THE ALHAMBRA. 

want of so trifling a boon. Surely, too, he could not be one 
of those dangerous beings whom her aunt had described as a 
species of cannibal, ever on the prowl to make prey of thought- 
less damsels ; he was gentle and modest, aud stood so entreat- 
ingly with cap in hand, and looked so charming. The sly 
page saw that the garrison began to waver, and redoubled his 
entreaties in such moving terms, that it was not in the nature 
of mortal maiden to deny him ; so, the blushing little warder 
of the tower descended and opened the door with a trembling 
hand ; and if the page had been charmed by a mere glimpse 
of her countenance from the window, he was ravished by the 
full-length portrait now revealed to him. 

Her Andalusian bodice and trim basquina set off the round 
but delicate symmetry of her form, which was as yet scarce 
verging into womanhood. Her glossy hair was parted on her 
forehead with scrupulous exactness, and decorated with a fresh- 
plucked rose, according to the universal custom of the country. 

It is true, her complexion was tinged by the ardor of a 
southern sun, but it served to give richness to the mantling 
bloom of her cheek, and to heighten the lustre of her melting 
eyes. 

Ruyz de Alarcon beheld all this with a single glance, for it 
became him not to tarry ; he merely murmured his acknowl- 
edgments, and then bounded lightly up the spiral staircase in 
quest of his falcon. He soon returned with the truant bird 
upon his fist. The damsel, in the mean time, had seated her- 
self by the fountain in the hall, and was winding silk ; but in 
her agitation she let fall the reel upon the pavement. The 
page sprang, picked it up, then dropping gracefully on one 
knee, presented it to her, but, seizing the hand extended to 
receive it, imprinted on it a kiss more fervent and devout than 
he had ever imprinted on the fair hand of his sovereign. 

"Ave Maria! Senor ! " exclaimed the damsel, blushing still 
deeper with confusion and surprise, for never before had she 
received such a salutation. 

The modest page made a thousand apologies, assuring her it 
was the way, at court, of expressing the most profound hom- 
age and respect. 

Her anger, if anger she felt, was easily pacified ; but her 
agitation and embarrassment continued, and she sat blushing 
deeper and deeper, with her eyes cast down upon her work, 
entangling the silk which she attempted to wind. 

The cunning page saw the confusion in the opposite camp, 
and would fain have profited by it, but the fine speeches he 



THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 155 

would have uttered died upon his lips ; his attempts at gallantry 
were awkward and ineffectual ; and, to his surprise, the adroit 
page who had figured with such grace and effronteiy among the 
most knowing and experienced ladies of the court, found him- 
self awed and abashed in the presence of a simple damsel of 
fifteen. 

In fact, the artless maiden, in her own modesty and inno- 
cence, had guardians more effectual than the bolts and bars 
prescribed by her vigilant aunt. Still, where is the female 
bosom proof against the first whisperings of love ? The little 
damsel, with all her artlessness, instinctively comprehended all 
that the faltering tongue of the page failed to express, and her 
heart was fluttered at beholding, for the first time, a lover at 
her feet — and such a lover ! 

The diffidence of the page, though genuine, was short-lived, 
and he was recovering his usual ease and confidence, when a 
shrill voice was heard in the distance. 

"My aunt is returning from mass! " cried the damsel in 
affright. " I pray you, Sehor, depart." 

" Not until you grant me that rose from your hair as a re- 
membrance." 

She hastily untwisted the rose from her raven locks. " Take 
it," cried she, agitated and blushing, " but pray begone." 

The page took the rose, and at the same time covered with 
kisses the fair hand that gave it. Then placing the flower in 
his bonnet, and taking the falcon upon his fist, he bounded off 
through the garden, bearing away with him the heart of the 
gentle Jacinta. 

When the vigilant aunt arrived at the tower, she remarked 
the agitation of her niece, and an air of confusion in the hall ; 
but a word of explanation sufficed. "A ger-falcon had pur- 
sued his prey into the hall." 

" Mercy on us ! To think of a falcon flying into the tower. 
Did ever one hear of so saucy a hawk? Why, the very bird in 
the cage is not safe." 

The vigilant Fredegonda was one of the most wary of 
ancient spinsters. She had a becoming terror and distrust 
of what she denominated " the opposite sex," which had gradu- 
ally increased through a long life of celibacy. Not that the 
good lady had ever suffered from their wiles ; nature having set 
up a safeguard in her face, that forbade all trespass upon her 
premises ; but ladies who have least cause to fear for them- 
selves, are most ready to keep a watch over their more tempt- 
ing neighbors. The niece was the orphan of an officer who 



156 THE ALHAMBRA. 

had fallen in the wars. She had been educated in a convent, 
and had recently been transferred from her sacred as\dum to 
the immediate guardianship of her aunt ; under whose over- 
shadowing care she vegetated in obscurity, like an opening rose 
blooming beneath a briar. Nor, indeed, is this comparison 
entirely accidental, for to tell the truth her fresh and dawning 
beauty had caught the public eye, even in her seclusion, and, 
with that poetical turn common to the people of Andalusia, the 
peasantry of the neighborhood had given her the appellation o^ 
" The Rose of the Alhambra." 

The wary aunt continued to keep a faithful watch over her 
tempting little niece as long as the court continued at Granada, 
and flattered herself that her vigilance had been successful. It 
is true, the good lady was now and then discomposed by the 
tinkling of guitars, and chanting of love ditties from the moon- 
lit groves beneath the tower, but she would exhort her niece to 
shut her ears against such idle minstrels}^, assuring her that it 
was one of the arts of the opposite sex, by which simple maids 
were often lured to their undoing ; — alas, what chance with a 
simple maid has a dry lecture against a moonlight serenade ! 

At length king Philip cut short his sojourn at Granada, and 
suddenly departed with all his train. The vigilant Fredegonda 
watched the royal pageant as it issued forth from the gate of 
Justice, and descended the great avenue leading to the city. 
When the last banner disappeared from her sight, she returned 
exulting to her tower, for all her cares were over. To her sur- 
prise, a light Arabian steed pawed the ground at the wicket 
gate of the garden — to her horror she saw through the thickets 
of roses, a youth, in gayly embroidered dress, at the feet of her 
niece. At the sound of her footsteps he gave a tender adieu, 
bounded lightly over the barrier of reeds and myrtles, sprang 
upon his horse, and was out of sight in an instant. 

The tender Jacinta in the agony of her grief lost all thought 
of her aunt's displeasure. Throwing herself into her arms, she 
broke forth into sobs and tears. 

" Ay cli mi ! " cried she, " he is gone ! he is gone ! and I shall 
never see him more." 

" Gone ! who is gone? what youth is this I saw at } T our feet? " 

" A queen's page, aunt, who came to bid me farewell." 

"A queen's page, child," echoed the vigilant Fredegonda 
faintly, " and when did you become acquainted with a queen's 
page ? ' ' 

"The morning that the ger- falcon flew into the tower. It 
was the queen's ger-falcon, and he came in pursuit of it." 



THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 157 



u 



Ah, silly, silly girl ! know that there are no ger-faleons 
half so dangerous as these pranking pages, and it is precisely 
such simple birds as thee that they pounce upon." 

The aunt was at first indignant at learning that, in despite 
of her boasted vigilance, a tender intercourse had been carried 
on by the youthful lovers, almost beneath her eye ; but when 
she found that her simple-hearted niece, though thus exposed, 
without the protection of bolt or bar, to all the machinations 
of the opposite sex, had come forth unsinged from the fiery 
ordeal, she consoled herself with the persuasion that it was 
owing to the chaste and cautious maxims in which she had, as 
it were, steeped her to the very lips. 

While the aunt laid this soothing unction to her pride, the 
niece treasured up the oft-repeated vows of fidelity of the page. 
But what is the love of restless, roving man ? a vagrant stream 
that dallies for a time with each flower upon its banks, then 
passes on and leaves them all in tears. 

Days, weeks, months elapsed, and nothing more was heard 
of the page. The pomegranate ripened, the vine yielded up 
its fruit, the autumnal rains descended in torrents from the 
mountains ; the Sierra Nevada became covered with a snowy 
mantle, and wintry blasts howled through the halls of the Al- 
hambra : still he came not. The winter passed away. Again 
the genial spring burst forth with song, and blossoms, and 
balmy zephyr ; the snows melted from the mountains, until 
none remained, but on the lofty summit of the Nevada, glisten- 
ing through the sultry summer air : still nothing was heard of 
the forgetful page. 

In the mean time, the poor little Jacinta grew pale and 
thoughtful. Her former occupations and amusements were 
abandoned ; her silk lay entangled, her guitar unstrung, her 
flowers were neglected, the notes of her bird unheeded, and 
her eyes, once so bright, were dimmed with secret weeping. 
If any solitude could be devised to foster the passion of a love- 
lorn damsel, it would be such a place as the Alhambra, where 
every thing seems disposed to produce tender and romantic 
reveries. It is a very Paradise for lovers ; how hard then to be 
alone in such a Paradise ; and not merely alone, but forsaken. 

" Alas, sill}' child ! " would the staid and immaculate Frede- 
gonda saj 7 , when she found her niece in one of her desponding 
moods, " did I not warn thee against the wiles and deceptions 
of these men? What couldst thou expect, too, from one of a 
haughty and aspiring family, thou, an orphan, the descendant 
of a fallen and impoverished line ; be assured, if the youth were 



158 THE ALHAMBRA. 

true, his father, who is one of the proudest nobles about the 
court, would prohibit his union with one so humble and portion- 
less as thou. Pluck up they resolution, therefore, and drive 
these idle notions from thy mind." 

The words of the immaculate Fredegonda only served to in- 
crease the melancholy of her niece, but she sought to indulge 
it in private. At a late hour one midsummer night, after her 
aunt had retired to rest, she remained alone in the hall of the 
tower, seated beside the alabaster fountain. It was here that 
the faithless page had first knelt and kissed her hand, it was 
here that he had often vowed eternal fidelity. The poor little 
damsel's heart was overladen with sad and tender recollections, 
her tears began to flow, and slowly fell, drop by drop, into the 
fountain. By degrees the crystal water became agitated, and, 
bubble — bubble — bubble, boiled up, and was tossed about 
until a female figure, richly clad in Moorish robes, slowly rose 
to view. 

Jacinta was so frightened, that she fled from the hall, and 
did not venture to return. The next morning, she related what 
she had seen to her aunt, but the good lady treated it as a 
fantasy of her troubled mind, or supposed she had fallen asleep 
and dreamt beside the fountain. " Thou hast been thinking of 
the story of the three Moorish princesses that once inhabited 
the tower," continued she, " and it has entered into thy 
dreams." 

" What story, aunt? I know nothing of it." 

" Thou hast certainly heard of the three princesses, Zaj^cla, 
Zorayda, and Zorahayda, who were confined in this tower by 
the king their father, and agreed to fly with three Christian 
cavaliers. The first two accomplished their escape, but the 
third failed in resolution and remained, and it is said died in 
this tower." 

"I now recollect to have heard of it," said Jacinta, "and 
to have wept over the fate of the gentle Zorahayda." 

14 Thou ma} T st well weep over her fate," continued the aunt, 
11 for the lover of Zorahayda was thy ancestor. He long be- 
moaned his Moorish love, but time cured him of his grief, and 
he married a Spanish lady, from whom thou art descended." 

Jacinta ruminated upon these words. " That what I have 
seen is no fantas}' of the brain," said she to herself, u I am 
confident. If indeed it be the spirit of the gentle Zorahayda, 
which I have heard lingers about this tower, of what should I 
be afraid? I'll watch by the fountain to-night, perhaps the 
visit will be repeated." 



THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 159 

Towards midnight, when every thing was quiet, she again 
took her seat in the hall. As the bell on the distant watch- 
tower of the Alhambra struck the midnight hour, the fountain 
was again agitated, and bubble — bubble — bubble, it tossed 
about the waters until the Moorish female again rose to view. 
She was young and beautiful ; her dress was rich with jewels, 
and in her hand she held a silver lute. Jacinta trembled and 
was faint, but was reassured by the soft and plaintive voice 
of the apparition, and the sweet expression of her pale melan- 
choly countenance. 

' ' Daughter of Mortality, ' ' said she, ' ' what aileth thee ? Why 
do thy tears trouble my fountain, and thy sighs and plaints 
disturb the quiet watches of the night? " 

" I weep because of the faithlessness of man ; and I bemoan 
my solitary and forsaken state." 

"Take comfort, thy sorrows may yet have an end. Thou 
beholdest a Moorish princess, who, like thee, was unhapp} T in 
her love. A Christian knight, thy ancestor, won my heart, 
and would have borne me to his native land, and to the bosom 
of his church. I was a convert in my heart, but I lacked cour- 
age equal to my faith, and lingered till too late. For this, the 
evil genii are permitted to have power over me, and I remain 
enchanted in this tower, until some pure Christian will deign to 
break the magic spell. Wilt thou undertake the task? " 

" I will ! " replied the damsel, trembling. 

" Come hither, then, and fear not : dip thy hand in the foun- 
tain, sprinkle the water over me, and baptize me after the 
manner of thy faith ; so shall the enchantment be dispelled, 
and my troubled spirit have repose." 

The damsel advanced with faltering steps, dipped her hand 
in the fountain, collected water in the palm, and sprinkled it 
over the pale face of the phantom. 

The latter smiled with ineffable benignity. She dropped her 
silver lute at the feet of Jacinta, crossed her white arms upon 
her bosom, and melted from sight, so that it seemed merely as 
if a shower of dewdrops had fallen into the fountain. 

Jacinta retired from the hall, filled with awe and wonder. 
She scarcely closed her eyes that night, but when she awoke at 
daybreak out of a troubled slumber, the whole appeared to her 
like a distempered dream. On descending into the hall, how- 
ever, the truth of the vision was established ; for, beside the 
fountain she beheld the silver lute o-littering in the mornino; 
sunshine. 

She hastened to her aunt, related all that had befallen her, 



160 THE ALHAMBRA. 

and called her to behold the lute as a testimonial of the reality 
of her story. If the good lady had any lingering doubts, the\- 
were removed when Jacinta touched the instrument, for she 
drew forth such ravishing tones as to thaw even the frigid 
bosom of the immaculate Fredegonda, that region of eternal 
winter, into a genial flow. Nothing but supernatural melody 
could have produced such an effect. 

The extraordinary power of the lute became every day more 
and more apparent. The wayfarer passing by the tower was 
detained, and, as it were, spell-bound, in breathless ecstasy. 
The very birds gathered in the neighboring trees, and, hushing 
their own strains, listened in charmed silence. Rumor soon 
spread the news abroad. The inhabitants of Granada thronged 
to the Alhambra, to catch a few notes of the transcendent music 
that floated about the tower of Las Infantas. 

The lovely little minstrel was at length drawn forth from her 
retreat. The rich and powerful of the land contended who 
should entertain and do honor to her ; or rather, who should 
secure the charms of her lute, to draw fashionable throngs to 
their saloons. Wherever she went, her vigilant aunt kept a 
dragon-watch at her elbow, awing the throngs of impassioned 
admirers who hung in raptures on her strains. The report of 
her wonderful powers spread from city to city : Malaga, Seville, 
Cordova, all became successively mad on the theme ; nothing 
was talked of throughout Andalusia, but the beautiful minstrel 
of the Alhambra. How could it be otherwise among a people 
so musical and gallant as the Andalusians, when the lute was 
magical in its powers, and the minstrel inspired by love. 

While all Andalusia was thus music-mad, a different mood 
prevailed at the court of Spain. Philip V., as is well known, 
was a miserable hypochondriac, and subject to all kinds of 
fancies. Sometimes he would keep to his bed for weeks to- 
gether, groaning under imaginary complaints. At other times 
he would insist upon abdicating his throne, to the great annoy- 
ance of his royal spouse, who had a strong relish for the 
splendors of a court and the glories of a crown, and guided 
the sceptre of her imbecile lord with an expert and steady 
hand. 

Nothing was found to be so efficacious in dispelling the royal 
megrims as the powers of music ; the queen took care, there- 
fore, to have the best performers, both vocal and instrumental, 
at hand, and retained the famous Italian singer Farinelli about 
the court as a kind of royal physician. 

At the moment we treat of, however, a freak had come over 



THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALUAMBRA. 161 

the mind of this sapient and illustrious Bourbon, that surpassed 
all former vagaries. After a long spell of imaginary illness, 
which set all the strains of Farinelli, and the consultations of 
a whole orchestra of court fiddlers, at defiance, the monarch 
fairty, in idea, gave up the ghost, and considered himself 
absolutely dead. 

This would have been harmless enough, and even convenient 
both to his queen and courtiers, had he been content to remain 
in the quietude befitting a dead man ; but, to their anno} T ance, 
he insisted upon having the funeral ceremonies performed over 
him, and, to their inexpressible perplexity, began to grow im- 
patient, and to revile bitterly at them for negligence and dis- 
respect in leaving him unburied. What was to be done? To 
disobey the king's positive commands was monstrous in the 
e}*es of the obsequious courtiers of a punctilious court, — but to 
obey him, and bury him alive, would be downright regicide ! 

In the midst of this fearful dilemma, a rumor reached the 
court of the female minstrel, who was turning the brains of all 
Andalusia. The queen despatched missives in all haste, to 
summon her to St. Ildefonso, where the court at that time 
resided. 

Within a few days, as the queen with her maids of honor 
was walking in those stately gardens, intended, with their 
avenues, and terraces, and fountains, to eclipse the glories of 
Versailles, the far-famed minstrel was conducted into her 
presence. The imperial Elizabetta gazed with surprise at the 
youthful and unpretending appearance of the little being that 
had set the world madding. She was in her picturesque 
Andalusian dress ; her silver lute was in her hand, and she 
stood with modest and downcast eyes, but with a simplicity 
and freshness of beauty that still bespoke her " The Rose of 
the Aihambra." 

As usual, she was accompauied by the ever vigilant Frede- 
gonda, who gave the whole history of her parentage and 
descent to the inquiring queen. If the stately Elizabetta had 
been interested by the appearance of Jacinta, she was still 
more pleased when she learnt that she was of a meritorious, 
though impoverished line, and that her father had bravely fallen 
in the service of the crown. " If thy powers equal their 
renown," said she, " and thou canst cast forth this evil spirit 
that possesses thy sovereign, thy fortune shall henceforth be my 
care, and honors and wealth attend thee." 

Impatient to make trial of her skill, she led the way at once 
to the apartment of the moody monarch. Jacinta followed 



162 THE ALHAMBIIA. 

with downcast eyes through files of guards and crowds of 
courtiers. They arrived at length at a great chamber hung in 
black. The windows were closed, to exclude the light of day ; 
a number of yellow wax tapers, in silver sconces, diffused a 
lugubrious light, and dimly revealed the figures of mutes in 
mourning dresses, and courtiers, who glided about witb noise- 
less step and woe-begone visage. On the midst of a funeral 
bed or bier, his hands folded on his breast, and the tip of his 
nose just visible, lay extended this would - be - buried mon- 
arch. 

The queen entered the chamber in silence, and, pointing to a 
footstool in an obscure corner, beckoned to Jacinta to sit down 
and commence. 

At first she touched her lute with a faltering hand, but 
gathering confidence and animation as she proceeded, drew 
forth such soft, aerial harmony, that all present could scarce 
believe it mortal. As to the monarch, who had already con- 
sidered himself in the world of spirits, he set it down for some 
angelic melody, or the music of the spheres. By degrees the 
theme was varied, and the voice of the minstrel accompanied 
the instrument. She poured forth one of the legendary bal- 
lads treating of the ancient glories of the Alhambra, and the 
achievements of the Moors. Her whole soul entered into the 
theme, for with the recollections of the Alhambra was associ- 
ated the story of her love ; the funereal chamber resounded 
with the animating strain. It entered into the gloomy heart 
of the monarch. He raised his head and gazed around ; he sat 
up on his couch ; his eye began to kindle ; at length, leaping 
upon the floor, he called for sword and buckler. 

The triumph of music, or rather of the enchanted lute, was 
complete ; the demon of melancholy was cast forth ; and, as it 
were, a dead man brought to life. The windows of the apart- 
ment were thrown open ; the glorious effulgence of Spanish 
sunshine burst into the late lugubrious chamber ; all eyes 
sought the lovely enchantress, but the lute had fallen from her 
hand ; she had sunk upon the earth, and the next moment was 
clasped to the bosom of Ruyz de Alarcon. 

The nuptials of the happy couple were shortly after celebrated 
with great splendor, — but hold, I hear the reader ask how did 
Ruyz de Alarcon account for his long neglect? Oh, — that was 
all owing to the opposition of a proud pragmatical old father, — 
besides, young people, who really like one another, soon come 
to an amicable understanding, and bury all past grievances 
whenever they meet. 



THE VETERAN. 163 

But how was the proud pragmatical old father reconciled to 
the match? 

Oh, his scruples were easily overruled by a word or two from 
the queen, — especially as dignities and rewards were showered 
upon the blooming favorite of royalty. Besides, the lute of 
Jacinta, you know, possessed a magic power, and could control 
the most stubborn head and hardest heart. 

And what became of the enchanted lute ? 

Oh, that is the most curious matter of all, and plainly proves 
the truth of all the story. The lute remained for some time 
in the family, but was purloined and carried off, as was sup- 
posed, by the great singer Farinelli, in pure jealousy. At his 
death it passed into other hands in Italy, who were ignorant of 
its mystic powers, and melting down the silver, transferred the 
strings to an old Cremona fiddle. The strings still retain some- 
thing of their magic virtues. A word in the reader's ear, but 
let it go no further, — that fiddle is now bewitching the whole 
world, — it is the fiddle of Paganini ! 



THE VETERAN. 



Among the curious acquaintances I have made in my rambles 
about the fortress, is a brave and battered old Colonel of In- 
valids, who is nestled like a hawk in one of the Moorish towers. 
His history, which he is fond of telling, is a tissue of those adven- 
tures, mishaps, and vicissitudes that render the life of almost 
every Spaniard of note as varied and whimsical as the pages 
of Gil Bias. 

He was in America at twelve years of age, and reckons 
among the most signal and fortunate events of his life, his hav- 
ing seen General Washington. Since then he has taken a part 
in all the wars of his country ; he can speak experimentally of 
most of the prisons and dungeons of the Peninsula, has been 
lamed of one leg, crippled in his hand, and so cut up and car- 
bonadoed, that he is a kind of walking monument of the troubles 
of Spain, on which there is a scar for every battle and broil, as 
every year was notched upon the tree of Robinson Crusoe. The 
greatest misfortune of the brave old cavalier, however, appears 
to have been his having commanded at Malaga during a time 
of peril and confusion, and been made a general by the inhab- 
itants to protect them from the invasion of the French. 



164 THE ALI1AMBRA. 

This has entailed upon him a number of just claims upon 
government that I fear will employ him until his dying day in 
writing and printing petitions and memorials, to the great dis- 
quiet of his mind, exhaustion of his purse, and penance of his 
friends ; not one of whom can visit him without having to listen 
to a mortal document of half an hour in length, and to carry 
away half a dozen pamphlets in his pocket. This, however, 
is the case throughout Spain : everywhere you meet with some 
worthy wight brooding in a corner, and nursing up some pet 
grievance and cherished wrong. Beside, a Spaniard who has 
a lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be considered as 
furnished with employment for the remainder of his life. 

I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of the 
Terre del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small but snug, 
and commanded a beautiful view of the Vega. It was arranged 
with a soldier's precision. Three muskets and a brace of pistols, 
all bright and shining, were suspended against the wall, with a 
sabre and a cane hanging side by side, and above these two 
cocked hats, one for parade, and one for ordinary use. A small 
shelf, containing some half dozen books, formed his library, 
one of which, a little old mouldy volume of philosophical 
maxims, was his favorite reading. This he thumbed and 
pondered over day by day ; applying every maxim to his own 
particular case, provided it had a little tinge of wholesome bit- 
terness, and treated of the injustice of the world. 

Yet he is social and kind-hearted, and, provided he can be 
diverted from his wrongs and his philosophy, is an entertaining 
companion. I like these old weather-beaten sons of fortune, and 
enjoy their rough campaigning anecdotes. In the course of my 
visit to the one in question, I learnt some curious facts about an 
old military commander of the fortress, who seems to have re- 
sembled him in some respects, and to have had similar fortunes 
in the wars. These particulars have been augmented by inquiries 
among some of the old inhabitants of the place, particularly 
the father of Mateo Ximenes, of whose traditional stories the 
worthy I am about to introduce to the reader is a favorite hero, 



THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 

In former times there ruled, as governor of the Alhambra, a 
doughty old cavalier, who. from having lost one arm in the 
wars, was commonly known by the name of El Gobernador 



THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 165 

Manco, or the one-armed governor. He in fact prided himself 
upon being an old soldier, wore his mustachios curled up to his 
eyes, a pair of campaigning boots, and a toledo as long as a spit, 
with his pocket handkerchief in the basket-hilt. 

He was, moreover, exceedingly proud and punctilious, and 
tenacious of all his privileges and dignities. Under his sway, 
the immunities of the Alhambra, as a royal residence and do- 
main, were rigidly exacted. No one was permitted to enter 
the fortress with fire-arms, or even with a sword or staff, unless 
he were of a certain rank, and every horseman was obliged to 
dismount at the gate and lead his horse by the bridle. Now, 
as the hill of the Alhambra rises from the very midst of the 
city of Granada, being, as it were, an excrescence of the capi- 
tal, it must at all times be somewhat irksome to the captain- 
general who commands the province, to have thus an imperium 
in imperio, a petty independent post, in the very core of his 
domains. It was rendered the more galling in the present 
instance, from the irritable jealousy of the old governor, that 
took fire on the least question of authority and jurisdiction, 
and from the loose vagrant character of the people that had 
gradually nestled themselves within the fortress as in a sanctu- 
ary, and from thence carried on a system of roguery and dep- 
redation at the expense of the honest inhabitants of the city. 
Thus there was a perpetual feud and heart-burning between 
the captain-general and the governor; the more virulent ^ on 
the part of the latter, inasmuch as the smallest of two neigh- 
boring potentates is always the most captious about his dignity. 
The stately palace of the captain-general stood in the Plaza 
Nueva, immediately at the foot of the hill of the Alhambra, 
and here was always a bustle and parade of guards, and domes- 
tics, and city functionaries. A beetling bastion of the fortress 
overlooked the palace and the public square in front of it ; and 
on this bastion the old governor would occasionally strut back- 
wards and forwards, with his toledo girded by his side, keeping 
a wary eye down upon his rival, like a hawk reconnoitring his 
quarry from his nest in a dry tree. 

Whenever he descended into the city, it was in grand parade, 
on horseback, surrounded by his guards, or in his state coach, 
an ancient and unwieldy Spanish edifice of carved timber and 
gilt leather, drawn by eight mules, with running footmen, out- 
riders, and lackeys, on which occasions he flattered himself 
he impressed every beholder with awe and admiration as vice- 
gerent of the king, though the wits of Granada, particularly 
those who loitered about the palace of the captain-general. 



166 THE ALHAMBRA. 

were apt to sneer at his petty parade, and, in allusion to the 
vagrant character of his subjects, to greet him with the appella- 
tion of " the Kino; of the be^sjars." 

One of the most fruitful sources of dispute between these 
two doughty rivals, was the right claimed by the governor to 
have all things passed free of duty through the city, that were 
intended for the use of himself or his garrison. By degrees, 
this privilege had given rise to extensive smuggling. A nest 
of contrabandistas took up their abode in the hovels of the 
fortress and the numerous caves in its vicinity, and drove a 
thriving business under the connivance of the soldiers of the 
garrison. 

The vigilance of the captain-general was aroused. He con- 
sulted his legal adviser and factotum, a shrewd, meddlesome 
escribano, or notary, who rejoiced in an opportunity of perplex- 
ing the old potentate of the Alhambra, and involving him in 
a maze of legal subtilities. He advised the captain-general to 
insist upon the right of examining every convoy passing through 
the gates of his city, and he penned a long letter for him, in 
vindication of the right. Governor Manco was a straight- 
forward, cut-and-thrust old soldier, who hated an escribano 
worse than the devil, and this one in particular, worse than 
all other escribanoes. 

" What ! " said he, curling up his mustachios fiercely, u does 
the captain-general set his man of the pen to practise con- 
fusions upon me? I'll let him see that an old soldier is not 
to be baffled by Schoolcraft." 

He seized his pen, and scrawled a short letter in a crabbed 
hand, in which, without deigning to enter into argument, he 
insisted on the right of transit free of search, and denounced 
vengeance on any custom-house officer who should lay his un- 
hallowed hand on any convoy protected by the flag of the 
Alhambra. 

While this question was agitated between the two pragmati- 
cal potentates, it so happened that a mule laden with supplies 
for the fortress arrived one day at the gate of Xenil, lry which 
it was to traverse a suburb of the city on its way to the Alham- 
bra. The convoy was headed by a test} T old corporal, who had 
long served under the governor, and was a man after his own 
heart ; as trusty and stanch as an old toledo blade. As they 
approached the gate of the city, the corporal placed the banner 
of the Alhambra on the pack saddle of the mule, and, drawing 
himself up to a perfect perpendicular, advanced with his head 
dressed xo the front, but with the wary side glance of a cur 



THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 167 

passing through hostile grounds, and read}' for a snap and a 
snarl. 

" Who goes there? " said the sentinel at the gate. 

" Soldier of the Alhambra," said the corporal, without turn- 
ing his head. 

' ' What have you in charge ? ' ' 

"Provisions for the garrison. " 

"Proceed." 

The corporal marched straight forward, followed by the con- 
voy, but had not advanced many paces, before a posse of 
custom-house officers rushed out of a small toll-house. 

' ' Hallo there ! ' ' cried the leader : ' ; Muleteer, halt and open 
those packages." 

The corporal wheeled round, and drew himself up in battle 
array. " Respect the flag of the Alhambra," said he ; " these 
things are for the governor." 

" A fig for the governor, and a fig for his flag. Muleteer, 
halt, I say." 

" Stop the convoy at your peril ! " cried the corporal, cocking 
his musket. " Muleteer, proceed." 

The muleteer gave his beast a hearty thwack, the custom- 
house officer sprang forward, and seized the halter ; whereupon 
the corporal levelled his piece and shot him dead. 

The street was immediately in an uproar. The old corporal 
was seized, and after undergoing sundry kicks and cuffs, and 
cudgellings, which are generally given impromptu, by the mob 
in Spain, as a foretaste of the after penalties of the law, he was 
loaded with irons, and conducted to the city prison ; while his 
comrades were permitted to proceed with the convoy, after it 
had been well rummaged, to the Alhambra. 

The old governor was in a towering passion, when he heard 
of this insult to his flag and capture of his corporal. For a 
time he stormed about the Moorish halls, and vapored about 
the bastions, and looked down fire and sword upon the palace 
of the captain-general. Having vented the first ebullition of 
his wrath, he despatched a message demanding the surrender 
of the corporal, as to him alone belonged the right of sitting 
in judgment on the offences of those under his command. The 
captain-general, aided by the pen of the delighted escribano, 
replied at great length, arguing that as the offence had been 
committed within the walls of his city, and against one of his 
civil officers, it was clearly within his proper jurisdiction. The 
governor rejoined by a repetition of his demand ; the captain - 
general gave a sur-re joinder of still greater length, and legal 



168 THE ALHAMBRA. 

acumen ; the governor became hotter and more peremptory in 
his demands, and the captain-general cooler and more copious 
in his replies ; until the old lion-hearted soldier absolutely 
roared with fur}', at being thus entangled in the meshes of 
legal controversy. 

While the subtle escribano was thus amusing himself at 
the expense of the governor, he was conducting the trial of the 
corporal ; who, mewed up in a narrow dungeon of the prison, 
had merely a small grated window at which to show his iron- 
bound visage, and receive the consolations of his friends ; a 
mountain of written testimony was diligently heaped up, ac- 
cording to Spanish form, by the indefatigable escribano; the 
corporal was completely overwhelmed by it. He was convicted 
of murder, and sentenced to be hanged. 

It was in vain the governor sent down remonstrance and 
menace from the Alhambra. The fatal day was at hand, and 
the corporal was put in ccqnlla, that is to sa} T , in the chapel 
of the prison ; as is always done with culprits the day before 
execution, that they may meditate on their approaching end, 
and repent them of their sins. 

Seeing things drawing to an extremity, the old governor de- 
termined to attend to the affair in person, For this purpose 
he ordered out his carriage of state, and, surrounded by his 
guards, rumbled down the avenue of the Alhambra into the 
city. Driving to the house of the escribano, he summoned 
him to the portal. 

The eye of the old governor gleamed like a coal at beholding 
the smirking man of the law advancing with an air of exulta- 
tion. 

" What is this I hear," cried he, "that you are about to put 
to death one of my soldiers ? ' ' 

" All according to law, — all in strict form of justice," said 
the self-sufficient escribano, chuckling and rubbing his hands. 
" I can show } T our excellency the written testimoiry in the 
case." 

' ' Fetch it hither, ' ' said the governor. 

The escribano bustled into his office, delighted with having 
another opportunity of displaying his ingenuity at the expense 
of the hard-headed veteran. He returned with a satchel full of 
papers, and began to read a long deposition with professional 
volubility. By this time, a crowd had collected, listening with 
outstretched necks and gaping mouths. 

" Pry 'thee man, get into the carriage out of this pestilent 
throng, that I may the better hoar thee-J' said the governor. 



THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 169 

The escribano entered the carriage, when, in a twinkling, 
the door was closed, the coachman smacked his whip, mules, 
carriage, guards, and all dashed off at a thundering rate, leav- 
ing the crowd in gaping wonderment; nor did the governor 
pause until he had lodged his prey in one of the strongest 
dungeons of the Alhambra. 

He then sent down a flag of truce in military style, propos- 
ing a cartel or exchange of prisoners, the corporal • for the 
notary. The pride of the captain-general was piqued, he re- 
turned a contemptuous refusal, and forthwith caused a gallows, 
tall and strong, to be erected in the centre of the Plaza Neuva, 
for the execution of the corporal. 

" ho ! is that the game? " said Governor Manco : he gave 
orders, and immediately a gibbet was reared on the verge of 
the great beetling bastion that overlooked the Plaza. " Now," 
said he, in a message to the captain-general, " hang my soldier 
when you please ; but at the same time that he is swung off in 
the square, look up to see your escribano dangling against the 
sky." 

The captain-general was inflexible ; troops were paraded in 
the square ; the drums beat ; the bell tolled ; au immense multi- 
tude of amateurs had collected to behold the execution ; on the 
other hand, the governor paraded his garrison on the bastion, 
and tolled the funeral dirge of the notary from the Torre de la 
Campana, or tower of the bell. 

The notary's wife pressed through the crowd with a w T hole 
progeny of little embryo escribanoes at her heels, and throwing 
herself at the feet of the captain-general, implored him not to 
sacrifice the life of her husband, and the welfare of herself and 
her numerous little ones, to a point of pride; "' for you know 
the old governor too well," said she, " to doubt that he will put 
his threat in execution if you hang the soldier. ' ' 

The captain-general was overpowered by her tears and lam- 
entations, and the clamors of her callow brood. The corporal 
was sent up to the Alhambra under a guard, in his gallows 
garb, like a hooded friar ; but with head erect and a face of 
iron. The escribano was demanded in exchange, according to 
the cartel. The once bustling and self-sufficient man of the 
law was drawn forth from his dungeon, more dead than alive. 
All his flippancy and conceit had evaporated ; his hair, it is 
said, had nearly turned gray with affright, and he had a down- 
cast, dogged look, as if he still felt the halter round his neck. 

The old governor stuck his one arm a-kimbo, and for a mo- 
ment surveyed him with an iron smile. "Henceforth, my 



170 THE ALHAMBRA. 

friend," said he, "moderate your zeal in hurrying others to 
the gallows ; be not too certain of your own safety, even 
though you should have the law on your side ; and, above all, 
take care how you play off your Schoolcraft another time upon 
an old soldier." 



GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 

When Governor Manco, or the one-armed, kept up a show of 
military state in the Alhambra, he became nettled at the re- 
proaches continually cast upon his fortress of being a nestling 
place of rogues and contrabandistas. On a sudden, the old 
potentate determined on reform, and setting vigorously to work, 
ejected whole nests of vagabonds out of the fortress, and the 
gypsy caves with which the surrounding hills are honey-combed. 
He sent out soldiers, also, to patrol the avenues and footpaths, 
with orders to take up all suspicious persons. 

One bright summer morning, a patrol consisting of the testy 
old corporal who had distinguished himself in the affair of 
the notaiy, a trumpeter, and two privates were seated under the 
garden wall of the Generaliffe, beside the road which leads down 
from the mountain of the Sun, when they heard the tramp of a 
horse, and a male voice singing in rough, though not unmusical 
tones, an old Castilian campaigning song. 

Present!} 7 they beheld a sturdy, sun-burnt fellow clad in the 
ragged garb of a foot-soldier, leading a powerful Arabian horse 
caparisoned in the ancient Morisco fashion. 

Astonished at the sight of a strange soldier, descending, 
steed in hand, from that solitary mountain, the corporal stepped 
forth and challenged him. 

"Who goes there?" 

"A friend." 

" Who, and what are you? " 

"A poor soldier, just from the wars, with a cracked crown 
and empty purse for a reward." 

B} r this time they were enabled to view him more narrowly. 
He had a black patch across his forehead, which, with a griz- 
zled beard, added to a certain dare-devil cast of countenance, 
while a slight squint threw into the whole an occasional gleam 
of roguish good-humor. 

Having answered the questions of the patrol, the soldier 
seemed to consider himself entitled to make others in return. 



GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 171 

" Mav I ask," said he, " what city is this which I see at the 
foot of the hill?" 

" What city ! " cried the trumpeter ; " come, that's too bad. 
Here's a fellow lurking about the mountain of the Sun, and 
demands the name of the great city of Granada." 

" Granada ! Madre de Dios ! can it be possible ! " 

u Perhaps not ! " rejoined the trumpeter, " and perhaps you 
have no idea that yonder are the towers of the Alhambra? " 

" Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, " do not trifle with 
me ; if this be indeed the Alhambra, I have some strange mat- 
ters to reveal to the governor." 

"You will have an opportunity," said the corporal, " for we 
mean to take you before him." 

By this time the trumpeter had seized the bridle of the steed, 
the two privates had each secured an arm of the soldier, the 
corporal put himself in front, gave the word, "forward, march ! " 
and away they marched for the Alhambra. 

The sight of a ragged foot-soldier and a fine Arabian horse 
brought in captive by the patrol, attracted the attention of all 
the idlers of the fortress, and of those gossip groups that gen- 
erally assemble about wells and fountains at early dawn. The 
wheel of the cistern paused in its rotations ; the slipshod ser- 
vant-maid stood gaping with pitcher in hand, as the corporal 
passed by with his prize. A motley train gradually gathered in 
the rear of the escort. Knowing nods, and winks, and con- 
jectures passed from one to another. It is a deserter, said 
one ; a contrabandista, said another ; a bandalero, said a third, 
until it was affirmed that a captain of a desperate band of rob- 
bers had been captured by the prowess of the corporal and his 
patrol. " Well, well," said the old crones one to another, 
' ' captain or not, let him get out of the grasp of old Governor 
Manco if he can, though he is but one-handed." 

Governor Manco was seated in one of the inner halls of the 
Alhambra, taking his morning's cup of chocolate in company 
with his confessor, a fat Franciscan friar from the neio-hborino- 

' Oct 

convent. A demure, dark-eyed damsel of Malaga, the daughter 
of his housekeeper, was attending upon him. 

The world hinted that the damsel, who, with all her clemure- 
ness, was a sly, buxom baggage, had found out a soft spot in 
the iron heart of the old governor, and held complete control 
over him, — but let that pass; the domestic affairs of these 
mighty potentates of the earth should not be too narrowly 
scrutinized. 

When word was brought that a suspicious stranger had been 



172 THE ALHAMBEA. 

taken lurking about the fortress, and was actually in the outer 
court, in durance of the corporal, waiting the pleasure of his 
excellency, the pride and stateliness of office swelled the bosom 
of the governor. Giving back his chocolate cup into the hands 
of the demure damsel, he called for his basket- hi It ed sword, 
girded it to his side, twirled up his mustachios, took his seat in a 
large high-backed chair, assumed a bitter and forbidding aspect, 
and ordered the prisoner into his presence. The soldier was 
brought in, still closely pinioned by his captors, and guarded 
by the corporal. He maintained, however, a resolute, self- 
confident air, and returned the sharp, scrutinizing look of the 
governor with an easy squint, which by no means pleased the 
punctilious old potentate. 

"Well, culprit!" said the governor, after he had regarded 
him for a moment in silence, " what have you to say for your- 
self? who are you? " 

" A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away noth- 
ing but scars and bruises." 

" A soldier? humph ! a foot-soldier by your garb. I under- 
stand you have a fine Arabian horse. I presume you brought 
him too from the wars, beside your scars and bruises." 

" May it please your excellency, I have something strange to 
tell about that horse. Indeed, I have one of the most won- 
derful things to relate — something too that concerns the secu- 
rity of this fortress, indeed, of all Granada. But it is a matter 
to be imparted only to 3'our private ear, or in presence of such 
only as are in your confidence." 

The governor considered for a moment, and then directed the 
corporal and his men to withdraw, but to post themselves out- 
side of the door, and be ready at call. " This holy friar," said 
he, " is my confessor, you may say any thing in his presence — 
and this damsel," nodding towards the handmaid, who had 
loitered with an air of great curiosity, " this damsel is of great 
secrecy and discretion, and to be trusted with any thing." 

The soldier gave a glance between a squint and a leer at the 
demure handmaid. " I am perfectly willing," said he, "that 
the damsel should remain." 

When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier commenced his 
stoiy. He was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet, and had a com- 
mand of language above his apparent rank. 

" May it please your excellency," said he, " I am, as I before 
observed, a soldier, and have seen some hard service, but my 
term of enlistment being expired, I was discharged not long 
since from the army at Valladolid, and set out on foot for my 



GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 173 

native village in Andalusia. Yesterday evening the snn went 
down as I was traversing a great dry plain of old Castile." 

" Hold ! " cried the governor, " what is this you say? Old 
Castile is some two or three hundred miles from this." 

"Even so," replied the soldier, coolly, "I told your excel- 
lency I "had strange things to relate — but not more strange 
than true — as your excellency will find, if you will deign me a 
patient hearing." 

"Proceed, culprit," said the governor, twirling up his mus- 
tachios. 

" As the sun went down," continued the soldier, " I cast my 
eyes about in search of some quarters for the night, but far as 
my sight could reach, there were no signs of habitation. I saw 
that I should have to make my bed on the naked plain, with 
my knapsack for a pillow ; but your excellency is an old sol- 
dier, and knows that to one who has been in the wars, such a 
night's lodging is no great hardship." 

The governor nodded assent, as he drew his pocket-handker- 
chief out of the basket-hilt of his sword, to drive away a fly that 
buzzed about his nose. 

"Well, to make a long story short," continued the soldier, 
" I trudged forward for several miles, until I came to a bridge 
over a deep ravine, through which ran a little thread of water, 
almost dried up b}~ the summer heat. At one end of the bridge 
was a Moorish tower, the upper part all in ruins, but a vault in 
the foundations quite entire. Here, thinks I, is a good place 
to make a halt. So I went down to the stream, took a hearty 
drink, for the water was pure and sweet, and I was parched 
with thirst, then opening my wallet, I took out an onion and 
a few crusts, which were all my provisions, and seating myself 
on a stone on the margin of the stream, began to make nry 
supper ; intending afterwards to quarter myself for the night 
in the vault of the tower, and capital quarters the} 7 would have 
been for a campaigner just from the wars, as your excellency, 
who is an old soldier, may suppose." 

"I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the 
governor, returning his pocket-handkerchief into the hilt of his 
sword. 

" While I was quietly crunching m} T crust," pursued the sol- 
dier, "I heard something stir within the vault; I listened: it 
was the tramp of a horse. By and by a man came forth from 
a door in the foundation oAhe tower, close by the water's 
edge, leading a powerful horse by the bridle. I could not well 
make out what he was by the starlight. It had a suspicious 



174 THE ALHAMBRA. 

look to be lurking among the ruins of a tower in that wild soli- 
tary place. He might be a mere wayfarer like myself ; he 
might be a contrabandista ; he might be a bandalero ! What 
of that — thank heaven and my poverty, I had nothing to lose, 

— so I sat still and crunched my crusts. 

" He led his horse to the water close by where I was sitting, 
so that I had a fair opportunity of reconnoitring him. To my 
surprise, he was dressed in a Moorish garb, with a cuirass of 
steel, and a polished skullcap, that I distinguished by the re- 
flection of the stars upon it. His horse, too, was harnessed in 
the Morisco fashion, with great shovel stirrups. He led him, 
as I said, to the side of the stream, into which the animal 
plunged his head almost to the eyes, and drank until I thought 
he would have burst. 

"'Comrade,' said I, ' }-our steed drinks well ; it's a good 
sign when a horse plunges his muzzle bravely into the water. ' 

" ' He may well drink,' said the stranger, speaking with a 
Moorish accent ; ' it is a good year since he had his last 
draught. ' 

" ' By Santiago,' said I, ' that beats even the camels that I 
have seen in Africa. But come, you seem to be something of 
a soldier, won't you sit down, and take part of a soldier's fare? ' 

— In fact, I felt the want of a companion in this lonely place, 
and was willing to put up with an infidel. Besides, as your 
excellency well knows, a soldier is never very particular about 
the faith of his company, and soldiers of all countries are com- 
rades on peaceable ground." 

The governor again nodded assent. 

" Well, as I was saying, I invited him to share nry supper, 
such as it was, for I could not do less in common hospitality. 

" ' I have no time to pause for meat or drink,' said he, 'I 
have along journey to make before morning.' 

" ' In which direction? ' said I. 

" ' Andalusia,' said he. 

" ' Exactly my route,' said I. ' So as you won't stop and 
eat with me, perhaps you'll let me mount and ride with you. I 
see your horse is of a powerful frame : I'll warrant he'll carry 
double.' 

"'Agreed,' said the trooper; and it would not have been 
civil and soldierlike to refuse, especially as I had offered to 
share my supper with him. So up he mounted, and up I 
mounted behind him. 

" ' Hold fast,' said he, ' my steed goes like the wind.' 

" ' Never fear me,' said I, and so off we set. 



GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 175 

" From a walk the horse soon passed to a trot, from a trot 
to a gallop, and from a gallop to a harum-scarum scamper. It 
seemed as if rocks, trees, houses, every thing, flew huny-scurry 
behind us. 

" ' What town is this? ' said I. 

" ' Segovia,' said he ; and before the words were out of his 
mouth, the towers of Segovia were out of sight. We swept up 
the Guadarama mountains, and down by the Escurial ; and we 
skirted the walls of Madrid, and we scoured away across the 
plains of La Mancha. In this way we went up hill and down 
dale, by towns and cities all buried in deep sleep, and across 
mountains, and plains, and rivers, just glimmering in the star- 
light. 

" To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excel- 
lency, the trooper suddenly pulled up on the side of a moun- 
tain. ' Here we are,' said he, ' at the end of our journey.' 

" I looked about but could see no signs of habitation : noth- 
ing but the mouth of a cavern : while I looked, I saw multitudes 
of people in Moorish dresses, some on horseback, some on foot, 
arriving as if borne by the wind from all points of the compass, 
and hurrying into the mouth of the cavern like bees into a 
hive. Before I could ask a question, the trooper struck his 
long Moorish spurs into the horse's flanks, and dashed in with 
the throng. We passed along a steep winding way that de- 
scended into the very bowels of the mountain. As we pushed 
on, a light began to glimmer up by little and little, like the 
first glimmerings of da} T , but what caused it, I could not dis- 
cover. It grew stronger and stronger, and enabled me to see 
every thing around. I now noticed as we passed along, great 
caverns opening to the right and left, like halls in an arsenal. 
In some there were shields, and helmets, and cuirasses, and 
lances, and cimeters hanging against the walls ; in others, there 
were great heaps of warlike munitions and camp equipage lying 
upon the ground. 

" It would have done your excellency's heart good, being an 
old soldier, to have seen such grand provision for war. Then 
in other caverns there were long rows of horsemen, armed to 
the teeth, with lances raised and banners unfurled, all ready 
for the field ; but they all sat motionless in their saddles like so 
many statues. In other halls, were warriors sleeping on the 
ground beside their horses, and foot soldiers in groups, ready 
to fall into the ranks. All were in old-fashioned Moorish 
dresses and armor. 

L ' Well, your excellency, to cut a long story short, we at 



176 THE ALHAMBRA. 

length entered an immense cavern, or I might say palace, of 
grotto work, the walls of which seemed to be veined with gold 
and silver, and to sparkle with diamonds and sapphires, and all 
kinds of precious stones. At the upper end sat a Moorish 
king on a golden throne, with his nobles an each side, and a 
guard of African blacks with drawn cimeters. All the crowd 
that continued to flock in, and amounted to thousands and 
thousands, passed one by one before his throne, each paying 
homage as he passed. Some of the multitude were dressed in 
magnificent robes, without stain or blemish, and sparkling with 
jewels ; others in burnished and enamelled armor ; while others 
were in mouldered and mildewed garments, and in armor all 
battered and dinted, and covered with rust. 

" I had hitherto held my tongue, for your excellency well 
knows, it is not for a soldier to ask many questions when on 
duty, but I could keep silence no longer. 

" ' Pr'ythee, comrade,' said I, 'what is the meaning of all 
this?' 

" ' This,' said the trooper, ' is a great and powerful mystery. 
Know, O Christian, that }ou see before you the court and 
army of Boabdil, the last king of Granada.' 

"■'What is this you tell me?' cried I. 'Boabdil and his 
court were exiled from the land hundreds of years agone, and 
all died in Africa.' 

"' So it is recorded in your lying chronicles,' replied the 
Moor, ' but know that Boabdil and the warriors who made the 
last struggle for Granada were all shut up in this mountain by 
powerful enchantment. As to the king and army that marched 
forth from Granada at the time of the surrender, they were a 
mere phantom train, or spirits and demons permitted to assume 
those shapes to deceive the Christian sovereigns. And fur- 
thermore let me tell you, friend, that all Spain is a country un- 
der the power of enchantment. There is not a mountain-cave, 
not a lonely watch-tower in the plains, nor ruined castle on the 
hills, but has some spell-bound warriors sleeping from age to 
age within its vaults, until the sins are expiated for which 
Allah permitted the dominion to pass for a time out of the 
hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the eve of St. 
John, the} T are released from enchantment from sunset to sun- 
rise, and permitted to repair here to pa} T homage to their sov- 
ereign ; and the crowds which you beheld swarming into the 
cavern are Moslem warriors from their haunts in all parts of 
Spain ; for my own part, you saw the ruined tower of the 
bridge in old Castile, where I have now wintered and summered 



GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 177 

for many hundred years, and where I must be back again by 
day-break. As to the battalions of horse and fpot which you 
beheld drawn up in array in the neighboring caverns, they are 
the spell-bound warriors of Granada. It is written in the book 
of fate, that when the x enchantment is broken, Boabdil will 
descend from the mountains at the head of his army, resume 
his throne in the Alhambra and his sway of Granada, and 
gathering together the enchanted warriors from all parts of 
Spain, will reconquer the peninsula, and restore it to Moslem 
rule.' 

" ' And when shall this happen? ' said I. 

" ' Allah alone knows. We had hoped the day of deliver- 
ance was at hand ; but there reigns at present a vigilant gov- 
ernor in Alhambra, a stanch old soldier, the same called 
Governor Manco ; while such a warrior holds command of the 
very outpost, and stands ready to check the first irruption from 
the mountain, I fear Boabdil and his soldiery must be content 
to rest upon their arms.' " 

Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicularly, 
adjusted his sword, and twirled up his mustachios. 

" To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excel- 
lency, the trooper having given me this account, dismounted 
from his steed. 

" ' Tarry here,' said he, ' and guard my steed, while I go and 
bow the knee to Boabdil.' So saying, he strode away among 
the throng that pressed forward to the throne. 

" What's to be done? thought I, when thus left to myself. 
Shall I wait here until this infidel returns to whisk me off on 
his goblin steed, the Lord knows where? or shall I make the 
most of my time, and beat a retreat from this hobgoblin com- 
munity ? — A soldier's mind is soon made up, as 3'our excellency 
well knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an avowed enemy 
of the faith and the realm, and was a fair prize according to 
the rules of war. So hoisting myself from the crupper into 
the saddle, I turned the reins, struck the Moorish stirrups 
into the sides of the steed, and put him to make the best of his 
way out of the passage by which we had entered. As we 
scoured by the halls where the Moslem horsemen sat in motion- 
less battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armor, and a 
hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of 
the stirrups, and doubled my speed. There was now a sound 
behind me like a rushing blast ; I heard the clatter of a thou- 
sand hoofs ; a countless throng overtook me ; I was borne 
along in the press, and hurled forth from the mouth of the 



178 THE ALHAMBJiA. 

cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were swept oft* in 
every direction by the four winds of heaven. 

"In the whirl and confusion of the scene, I was thrown 
from the saddle, and fell senseless to the earth. When I came 
to myself I was lying on the brow of a hill, with the Arabian 
steed standing beside me, for in falling my arm had slipped 
within the bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking off 
to old Castile. 

"Your excellency may easily judge of my surprise on look- 
ing round, to behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs, and other 
proofs of a southern climate, and see a great city below me 
with towers and palaces, and a grand cathedral. I descended 
the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I was afraid to mount 
him again, lest he should play me some slippery trick. As I 
descended, I met with your patrol, who let me into the secret 
that it was Granada that lay before me : and that I was actually 
under the walls of the Alhambra, the fortress of the redoubted 
Governor Manco, the terror of all enchanted Moslems. When 
I heard this, I determined at once to seek your excellency, to 
inform you of all that I had seen, and to warn you of the 
perils that surround and undermine you, that }T>u may take 
measures in time to guard your fortress, and the kingdom 
itself, from this intestine army that lurks in the very bowels of 
the land." 

"And pr'ythee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, 
and have seen so much service," said the governor, "how 
would you advise me to go about to prevent this evil? " 

"It is not for an humble private of the ranks," said the 
soldier modestly, " to pretend to instruct a commander of your 
excellency's sagacity ; but it appears to me that your excellency 
might cause all the caves and entrances into the mountain to 
be walled up with solid mason-work, so that Boabdil and his 
army might be completely corked up in their subterranean hab- 
itation. If the good father too," added the soldier, reverently 
bowiug to the friar, and devoutly crossing himself, "would 
consecrate the barricadoes with his blessing, and put up a few 
crosses and relics, and images of saints, I think they might 
withstand all the power of infidel enchantments." 

" The}' doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar. 

The governor now placed his arm a-kimbo, with his hand 
resting on the hilt of his toledo, fixed his eye upon the soldier, 
and gently wagging his head from one side to the other : 

" So, friend," said he, " then you really suppose I am to be 
gulled with this cock-and-bull story about enchanted mountains. 



GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 179 

and enchanted Moors. Hark ye, culprit! — not another word. 
— An old soldier you may be, but you'll find you have an old 
soldier to deal with ; and one not easily outgeneralled. Ho ! 
guard there ! — put this fellow in irons." 

The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favor of 
the prisoner, but the governor silenced her with a look. 

As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards felt 
something of bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth, found a 
long leathern purse that appeared to be well filled. Holding it 
by one corner, he turned out the contents on the table before 
the governor, and never did freebooter's bag make more gor- 
geous delivery. Oat tumbled rings and jewels, and rosaries of 
pearls, and sparkling diamond crosses, and a profusion of an- 
cient golden coin, some of which fell jingling to the floor, and 
rolled away to the uttermost parts of the chamber. 

For a time the functions of justice were suspended : there 
was a universal scramble after the glittering fugitives. The 
governor alone, who was imbued with true Spanish pride, 
maintained his stately decorum, though his eye betrayed a lit- 
tle anxiety until the last com and jewel was restored to the 
sack. 

The friar was not so calm ; his whole face glowed like a fur- 
nace, and his eyes twinkled and flashed at sight of the rosaries 
and crosses. 

"Sacrilegious wretch that thou art," exclaimed he, "what 
church or sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred 
relics ? ' ' 

" Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacrile- 
gious spoils, they must have been taken in times long past by 
the infidel trooper I have mentioned. I was just going to tell 
his excellency, when he interrupted me, that, on taking pos- 
session of the trooper's horse, I unhooked a leathern sack which 
hung at the saddle bow, and which, I presume, contained the 
plunder of his campaignings in days of old, when the Moors 
overran the country." 

" Mighty well, — at present you will make up your mind to 
take up your quarters in a chamber of the Vermilion towers, 
which, though not under a magic spell, will hold you as safe as 
any cave of your enchanted Moors." 

" Your excellency will do as you think proper," said the pris- 
oner coolly. " I shall be thankful to your excellency for any 
accommodation in the fortress. A soldier who has been in the 
wars, as your excellency well knows, is not particular about 
his lodgings ; and provided I have a snug dungeon and regular 



180 THE ALIIAMBRA. 

rations, I shall manage to make myself comfortable. 1 -would 
only entreat, that while your excellency is so careful about me. 
you would have an eye to your fortress, and think on the hint 
I dropped about stopping up the entrances to the mountain." 

Here ended the scene. The prisoner w T as conducted to a 
strong dungeon in the Vermilion towers, the Arabian steed 
was led to his excellency's stable, and the trooper's sack was 
deposited in his excellency's strong box. To the latter, it is 
true, the friar made some demur, questioning whether the 
.sacred relics, which were evidently sacrilegious spoils, should 
not be placed in custody of the church ; but as the governor 
was peremptory on the subject, and was absolute lord in the 
Alhambra, the friar discreetly dropped the discussion, but de- 
termined to convey intelligence of the fact to the church dig- 
nitaries in Granada. 

To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of 
old Governor Manco, it is proper to observe, that about this 
time the Alpuxarra mountains in the neighborhood of Gra- 
nada w r ere terribly infected by a gang of robbers, under the 
command of a daring chief named Manuel Borasco, who were 
accustomed to prowl about the country, and even to enter the 
city in various disguises to gain intelligence of the departure 
of convoys of merchandise, or travellers with well-lined purses, 
whom they took care to waylay in distant and solitaiy passes 
of their road. These repeated and daring outrages had awak- 
ened the attention of government, and the commanders of the 
various posts had received instruction to be on the alert, and 
to take up all suspicious stragglers. Governor Manco was par- 
ticularly zealous, in consequence of the various stigmas that 
had been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not that 
he had entrapped some formidable desperado of this gang. 

In the mean time the story took wind, and became the talk 
not merely of the fortress, but of the whole city of Granada. 
It was said that the noted robber, Manuel Borasco, the terror 
of the Alpuxarras, had fallen into the clutches of old Governor 
Manco, aud been cooped up by him in a dungeon of the Ver- 
milion towers, and every one who had been robbed by him 
Hocked to recognize the marauder. The Vermilion towers, as 
is well known, stand apart from the Alhambra, on a sister hill 
separated from the main fortress by the ravine, down which 
passes the main avenue. There were no outer walls, but a sen- 
tinel patrolled before the tower. The window of the chamber 
in which the soldier was confined was strongly grated, and 
looked upon a small esplanade. Here the good folks of Gra 



GOVERNOR MAN CO AND THE SOLDIER. 181 

nada repaired to gaze at him, as they would at a laughing 
hyena grinning through the cage of a menagerie. Nobody, 
however, recognized him for Manuel Borasco, for that terrible 
robber was noted for a ferocious physiognomy, and had by 
no means the good-humored squint of the prisoner. Visitors 
came not merely from the city, but from all parts of the coun- 
try, but nobody knew him, and there began to be doubts in the 
minds of the common people, whether there might not be some 
truth in his story. That Boabclil and his army were shut up in 
the mountain, was an old tradition which many of the ancient 
inhabitants had heard from their fathers. Numbers went up 
to the mountain of the Sun, or rather St. Elena, in search of 
the cave mentioned by the soldier ; and saw and peeped into 
the deep dark pit, descending, no one knows how far, into the 
mountain, and which remains there to this day, the fabled en- 
trance to the subterranean abode of Boabdil. 

By degrees, the soldier became popular with the common 
people. A freebooter of the mountains is by no means the op- 
probrious character in Spain that a robber is in any other coun- 
try ; on the contrary, he is a kind of chivalrous personage in 
the eyes of the lower classes. There is always a disposition, 
also, to cavil at the conduct of those in command, and many 
bewail to murmur at the high-handed measures of old Governor 
Manco, and to look upon the prisoner in the light of a martyr. 

The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish fellow, that 
had a joke for every one who came near his window, and a soft 
speech for every female. He had procured an old guitar also, 
and would sit by his window and sing ballads and love-ditties 
to the delight of the women of the neighborhood, who would 
assemble on the esplanade in the evenings, and dance boleros 
to his music. Having trimmed off his rough beard, his sun- 
burnt face found favor in the eyes of the fair, and the demure 
handmaid of the governor declared that his squint was per- 
fectly irresistible. This kind-hearted damsel had, from the 
first, evinced a deep sympathy in his fortunes, and having in 
vain tried to mollify the governor, had set to work privately to 
mitigate the rigor of his dispensations. Every day she brought 
the prisoner some crumbs of comfort which had fallen from the 
governor's table, or been abstracted from his larder, together 
with, now and then, a consoling bottle of choice Val de Penas, 
or rich Malaga. 

While this petty treason was going on in the very centre of 
the old governor's citadel, a storm of open war was brewing up 
among his external foes. The circumstance of a bag of gold 



182 THE ALHAMBRA. 

and jewels having been found upon the person of the supposed 
robber, had been reported with many exaggerations in Gra- 
nada. A question of territorial jurisdiction was immediately 
started by the governor's inveterate rival, the captain-general. 
He insisted that the prisoner had been captured without the pre- 
cincts of the Alhambra, and within the rules of his authority. 
He demanded his body, therefore, and the spolia opima taken 
with him. Due information having been carried likewise by 
the friar to the grand Inquisitor, of the crosses, and the rosa- 
ries, and other relics contained in the bag, he claimed the cul- 
prit, as having been guilty of sacrilege, and insisted that his 
plunder was due to the church, and his body to the next Auto 
da Fe. The feuds ran high ; the governor was furious, and 
swore, rather than surrender his captive, he would hang him up 
within the Alhambra, as a spy caught within the purlieus of 
the fortress. 

The captain-general threatened to send a body of soldiers to 
transfer the prisoner from the Vermilion towers to the city. 
The grand Inquisitor was equally bent upon despatching a 
number of the familiars of the holy office. Word was brought 
late at night to the governor, of these machinations. " Let 
them come," said he, " they'll find me beforehand with them. 
He must rise bright and early who would take in an old sol- 
dier." He accordingly issued orders to have the prisoner re- 
moved at daybreak to the Donjon Keep within the walls of the 
Alhambra: "And d'ye hear, child," said he to his demure 
handmaid, " tap at my door, and wake me before cock-crow- 
ing, that I may see to the matter myself." 

The day dawned, the cock crowed, but nobody tapped at the 
door of the governor. The sun rose high above the mountain - 
tops, and glittered in at his casement ere the governor was 
awakened from his morning dreams b} T his veteran corporal, 
who stood before him with terror stamped upon his iron visage. 

"He's off! he's gone!" cried the corporal, gasping for 
breath. 

" Who's off ? — who's gone? " 

"The soldier — the robber — the devil, for aught I know. 
His dungeon is empty, but the door locked. No one knows 
how he has escaped out of it." 

" Who saw him last? " 

" Your handmaid, — she brought him his supper." 

" Let her be called instantly." 

Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of the 
demure damsel was likewise empty ; her bed had not been slept 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCBEET STATUES. 183 

In ; she had doubtless gone off with the culprit, as she had ap- 
peared, for some days past, to have frequent conversations 
with him. 

This was wounding the old governor in a tender part, but he 
had scarce time to wince at it, when new misfortunes broke 
upon his view. On going into his cabinet, he found his strong 
box open, the leathern purse of the trooper extracted, and with 
it a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons. 

But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped? A peas- 
ant who lived in a cottage b} T the road-side leading up into the 
Sierra, declared that he had heard the tramp of a powerful 
steed, just before daybreak, passing up into the mountains. 
He had looked out at his casement, and could just distinguish 
a horseman, with a female seated before him. 

" Search the stables," cried G-overnor Manco. The stables 
were searched ; all the horses were in their stalls, excepting 
the Arabian steed. In his place was a stout cudgel tied to 
the manger, and on it a label bearing these words, " A gift to 
Governor Manco, from an old soldier.' ' 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 

There lived once, in a waste apartment of the Alhambra, a 
merry little fellow named Lope Sanchez, who worked in the 
gardens, and was as brisk and blithe as a grasshopper, singing 
all d&y long. He was the life and soul of the fortress ; when 
his work was over, he would sit on one of the stone benches of 
the esplanade and strum his guitar, and sing long ditties about 
the Cid, and Bernardo del Carpio, and Fernando del Pulgar, 
and other Spanish heroes, for the amusement of the old soldiers 
of the fortress, or would strike up a merrier tune, and set the 
girls dancing boleros and fandangos. 

Like most little men, Lope Sanchez had a strapping buxom 
dame for a wife, who could almost have put him in her pocket ; 
but he lacked the usual poor man's lot, — instead of ten chil- 
dren he had but one. This was a little black-eyed girl, about 
twelve years of age, named Sanchica, who was as merry as 
himself, and the delight of his heart. She played about him 
as he worked in the gardens, danced to his guitar as he sat in 
the shade, and ran as wild as a young fawn about the groves, 
and alleys, and ruined halls of the Alhambra. 



184 THE ALU AM BR A. 

It was now the eve of the blessed St. John, and the holiday- 
loving gossips of the Alhambra, men, women, and children, 
went up at night to the mountain of the Sun, which rises above 
the Generaliffe, to keep their midsummer vigil on its level 
summit. It was a bright moonlight night, and all the moun- 
tains were gray and silvery, and the city, with its domes 
and spires, lay in shadows below, and the Vega was like a 
fairy land, with haunted streams gleaming among its dusky 
groves. On the highest part of the mountain they lit up a bale 
fire, according to an old custom of the country handed down 
from the Moors. The inhabitants of the surrounding country 
were keeping a similar vigil, and bale fires here and there in the 
Vega, and along the folds of the mountains, blazed up palely 
in the moonlight. 

The evening was gay.l} T passed in dancing to the guitar of 
Lope Sanchez, who was never so joyous as when on a holiday 
revel of the kind. While the dance was going on, the little 
Sanchica with some of her playmates sported among the ruins 
of an old Moorish fort that crowns the mountain, when, in 
gathering pebbles in the fosse, she found a small hand, curi- 
ously carved of jet, the fingers closed, and the thumb firmly 
clasped upon them. Overjoyed with her good fortune, she 
ran to her mother with her prize. It immediately became a 
subject of sage speculation, and was eyed by some with super- 
stitious distrust. u Throw it away," said one, " it is Moorish, 
— depend upon it there's mischief and witchcraft in it." " By 
no means," said another, "you may sell it for something to 
the jewellers of the Zacatin." In the midst of this discussion 
an old tawny soldier drew near, who had served in Africa, and 
was as swarthy as a Moor. He examined the hand with a 
knowing look. "I have seen things of this kind," said he, 
" among the Moors of Barbary. It is of great value to guard 
against the evil eye, and all kinds of spells and enchantments. 
I give you joy, friend Lope, this bodes good luck to your child." 

Upon hearing this, the wife of Lope Sanchez tied the little 
hand of jet to a ribbon, and hung it round the neck of her 
daughter. 

The sight of this talisman called up all the favorite super- 
stitions about the Moors. The dance was neglected, and they 
sat in groups on the ground, telling old legendary tales handed 
down from their ancestors. Some of their storiest urned Tpon 
the wonders of the very mountain upon which they were seated, 
which is a famous hobgoblin region. 

One ancient crone gave a long account of the subterranean 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 185 

palace in the bowels of that mountain, where Boabdil and all 
his Moslem court are said to remain enchanted. "Among 
yonder ruins," said she, pointing to some crumbling walls and 
mounds of earth on a distant part of the mountain, " there is 
a deep black pit that goes down, down into the very heart of 
the mountain. For all the money in Granada, I would not 
look down into it. Once upon a time, a poor man of the Al- 
hambra, who tended goats upon this mountain, scrambled 
down into that pit after a kid that had fallen in. He came out 
again, all wild and staring, and told such things of what he 
had seen, that every one thought his brain was turned. He 
raved for a day or two about hobgoblin Moors that had pur- 
sued him in the cavern, and could hardly be persuaded to 
drive his goats up again to the mountain. He did so at last, 
but, poor man, he never came down again. The neighbors 
found his goats browsing about the Moorish ruins, and his hat 
and mantle lying near the mouth of the pit, but he was never 
more heard of." 

The little Sanchica listened with breathless attention to this 
story. She was of a curious nature, and felt immediately a 
great hankering to peep into this dangerous pit. Stealing 
away from her companions, she sought the distant ruins, and 
after groping for some time among them, came to a small 
hollow or basin, near the brow of the mountain, where it 
swept steeply down into the valley of the Darro. In the 
centre of this basin yawned the mouth of the pit. Sanchica 
ventured to the verge and peeped in. All was black as pitch, 
and gave an idea of immeasurable depth. Her blood ran cold 
— she drew back — then peeped again — then would have run 
away — then took another peep — the very horror of the thing 
was delightful to her. At length she rolled a large stone, and 
pushed it over the briuk. For some time it fell in silence ; 
then struck some rocky projection with a violent crash, then 
rebounded from side to side, rumbling and tumbling, with a 
noise like thunder, then made a final splash into water, far, 
far below, and all was again silent. 

The silence, however, did not long continue. It seemed as 
if something had been awakened within this dreary abyss. A 
murmuring sound gradually rose out of the pit like the hum 
and buzz of a bee-hive. It grew louder and louder ; there was 
the confusion of voices as of a distant multitude, together with 
the faint din of arms, clash of cymbals, and clangor of trum- 
pets, as if some army were marshalling for battle in the very 
bowels of the mountain. 



186 THE ALHAMBBA. 

The child drew off with silent awe, and hastened back to 
the place where she had left her parents and their companions. 
All were gone. The bale fire was expiring, and its last wreath 
of smoke curling up in the moonshine. The distant fires that 
had blazed along the mountains and in the Vega were all ex- 
tinguished ; every thing seemed to have sunk to repose. San- 
chica called her parents and some of her companions by name, 
but received no reply. She ran down the side of the mountain, 
and by the gardens of the Generaliffe, until she arrived in the 
alley of trees leading to the Alhambra, where she seated herself 
on a bench of a woody recess to recover breath. The bell from 
the watch-tower of the Alhambra told midnight. There was 
a deep tranquillity, as if all nature slept ; excepting the low 
tinkling sound of an unseen stream that ran under the covert 
of the bushes. The breathing sweetness of the atmosphere 
was lulliug her to sleep, when her eye was caught by some- 
thing glittering at a distance, and to her surprise, she beheld a 
long cavalcade of Moorish warriors pouring down the moun- 
tain side, and along the leafy avenues. Some were armed 
with lances and shields ; others with cimeters and battle-axes, 
and with polished cuirasses that flashed in the moonbeams. 
Their horses pranced proudly, and champed upon the bit, but 
their tramp caused no more sound than if they had been shod 
with felt, and the riders were all as pale as death. Among 
them rode a beautiful lady with a crowned head and long 
golden locks intwined with pearls. The housings of her 
palfrey were of crimson velvet embroidered with gold, and 
swept the earth ; but she rode all disconsolate, with eyes ever 
fixed upon the ground. 

Then succeeded a train of courtiers magnificently arrayed in 
robes and turbans of divers colors, and amidst these, on a 
cream-colored charger, rode king Boabdil el Chico, in a royal 
mantle covered with jewels, and a crown sparkling with dia- 
monds. The little Sanchica knew him by his yellow beard, and 
his resemblance to his portrait, which she had often seen in the 
picture gallery of the Generaliffe. She gazed in wonder and 
admiration at this royal pageant as it passed glistening among 
the trees, but though she knew these monarchs, and courtiers, 
and warriors, so pale and silent, were out of the common course 
of nature, and things of magic or enchantment, 3 7 et she looked 
on with a bold heart, such courage did she derive from the 
mystic talisman of the hand which was suspended about her 
neck. 

The cavalcade having passed by, she rose and followed. It 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 187 

continued on to the great gate of Justice, which stood wide 
open ; the old invalid sentinels on duty, lay on the stone 
benches of the Barbican, buried in profound and apparently 
charmed sleep, and the phantom pageant swept noiselessly by 
them with flaunting banner and triumphant state. Sanchica 
would have followed, but, to her surprise, she beheld an open- 
ing in the earth within the Barbican, leading down beneath 
the foundations of the tower. She entered for a little distance, 
and was encouraged to proceed by finding steps rudely hewn 
in the rock, and a vaulted passage here and there lit up by a 
silver lamp, which, while it gave light, diffused likewise a 
grateful fragrance. Venturing on, she came at last to a great 
hall wrought out of the heart of the mountain, magnificently 
furnished in the Moorish style, and lighted up by silver and 
crystal lamps. Here on an ottoman sat an old man in Moorish 
dress, with a long white beard, nodding and dozing, with a 
staff in his hand, which seemed ever to be slipping from his 
grasp ; while at a little distance, sat a beautiful lady in ancient 
Spanish dress, with a coronet all sparkling with diamonds, 
and her hair intwined with pearls, who was softly playing on 
a silver lyre. The little Sanchica now recollected a story she 
had heard among the old people of the Alhambra, concerning 
a Gothic princess confined in the centre of the mountain by 
an old Arabian magician, whom she kept bound up in magic 
sleep by the power of music. 

The lady paused with surprise, at seeing a mortal in that 
enchanted hall. "Is it the eve of the blessed St. John? " said 
she. 

" It is," replied Sanchica. 

" Then for one night the magic charm is suspended. Come 
hither, child, and fear not, I am a Christian like thyself, though 
bound here by enchantment. Touch my fetters with the talis- 
man that hangs about thy neck, and for this night I shall be 
free." 

So saying, she opened her robes and displayed a broad 
golden band round her waist, and a golden chain that fastened 
her to the ground. The child hesitated not to apply the little 
hand of jet to the golden band, and immediately the chain fell 
to the earth. At the sound the old man awoke, and began to 
rub his eyes, but the lady ran her fingers over the chords of the 
lyre, and again he fell into a slumber and began to nod, and 
his staff to falter in his hand. " Now," said the lady, " touch 
his staff with the talismanic hand of jet." The child did so, 
and it fell from his grasp, and he sank in a deep sleep on the 



188 THE ALHAMBBA. 

ottoman. The lady gently laid the silver lyre on the ottoman, 
leaning it against the head of the sleeping magician, then touch- 
ing the chords until they vibrated in his ear, "O potent spirit 
of harmony," said she, "continue thus to hold his senses in 
thraldom till the return of day." " Now follow me, my child," 
continued she, " and thou shalt behold the Alhambra as it was 
in the days of its gloiy, for thou hast a magic talisman that 
reveals all enchantments." Sanchica followed the lady in si- 
lence. The} 7 passed up through the entrance of the cavern into 
the Barbican of the gate of Justice, and thence to the Plaza de 
las Algibes, or esplanade within the fortress. This was all filled 
with Moorish soldiery, horse and foot, marshalled in squadrons, 
with banners displayed. There were ro}~al guards also at the 
portal, and rows of African blacks with drawn cimeters. No 
one spoke a word, and Sanchica passed on fearlessly after her 
conductor. Her astonishment increased on entering the royal 
palace, in which she had been reared. The broad moonshine 
lit up all the halls, and courts, and gardens, almost as brightly 
as if it were clay ; but revealed a far different scene from that 
to which she was accustomed. The walls of the apartments 
were no longer stained and rent by time. Instead of cobwebs, 
they were now hung with rich silks of Damascus, and the gild- 
ings and arabesque paintings were restored to their original 
brilliancy and freshness. The halls, instead of being naked 
and unfurnished, were set out with divans and ottomans of 
the rarest stuffs, embroidered with pearls, and studded with 
precious gems, and all the fountains in the courts and gardens 
were playing. 

The kitchens were again in full operation ; cooks were busied 
preparing shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the phan- 
toms of pullets and partridges ; servants were hurrying to and 
fro with silver dishes heaped up with dainties, and arranging 
a delicious banquet. The Court of Lions was thronged with 
guards, and courtiers, and alfaquis, as in the old times of the 
Moors ; and at the upper end in the saloon of judgment, sat 
Boabdil on his throne, surrounded by his court, and swaying a 
shadowy sceptre for the night. 

Notwithstanding all this throng and seeming bustle, not a 
voice or step was to be heard ; nothing interrupted the midnight 
silence but the plashing of the fountains. The little Sanchica 
followed her conductress in mute amazement about the palace, 
until they came to a portal opening to the vaulted passages 
beneath the great tower of Comares. On each side of the por- 
tal sat the figure of a nymph, wrought out of alabaster. Their 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCBEET STATUES. 189 

heads were turned aside, and their regards fixed upon the same 
spot within the vault. The enchanted lady paused, and beck- 
oned the child to her. " Here," said she, "is a great secret, 
which I will reveal to thee in reward for thy faith and courage. 
These discreet statues watch over a mighty treasure hidden in 
old times by a Moorish king. Tell thy father to search the 
spot on which their eyes are fixed, and he will find what will 
make him richer than any man in Granada. Thy innocent 
hands alone, however, gifted as thou art also with the talisman, 
can remove the treasure. Bid thy father use it discreetly, and 
devote a part of it to the performance of daily masses for my 
deliverance from this unholy enchantment." 

When the lady had spoken these words, she led the child 
onward to the little garden of Lindaraxa, which is hard by the 
vault of the statues. The moon trembled upon the waters of 
the solitary fountain in the centre of the garden, and shed a 
tender light upon the orange and citron trees. The beautiful 
lady plucked a branch of myrtle and wreathed it round the head 
of the child. " Let this be a memento," said she, " of what I 
have revealed to thee, and a testimonial of its truth. My hour 
is come. — I must return to the enchanted hall ; follow me not, 
lest evil befall thee ; farewell, remember what I have said, and 
have masses performed for my deliverance." So saying, the 
lady entered a dark passage leading beneath the towers of 
Comares, and was no longer to be seen. 

The faint crowing of a cock was now heard from the cottages 
below the Alhambra, in the valley of the Darro, and a pale 
streak of light began to appear above the eastern mountains. 
A slight Avind arose ; there was a sound like the rustling of dry 
leaves through the courts and corridors, and do©r after door 
shut to with a jarring sound. Sanchica returned to the scenes 
she had so lately beheld thronged with the shadowy multitude, 
but Boabdil and his phantom court were gone. 

The moon shone into empty halls and galleries, stripped of 
their transient splendor, stained and dilapidated by time, and 
hung with cobwebs ; the bat flitted about in the uncertain light, 
and the frog croaked from the fish-pond. 

Sanchica now made the best of her way to a remote staircase 
that led up to the humble apartment occupied by her family. 
The door as usual was open, for Lope Sanchez was too poor to 
need bolt or bar : she crept quietly to her pallet, and, putting 
the myrtle wreath beneath her pillow, soon fell asleep. 

In the morning she related all that had befallen her to her 
father. Lope Sanchez, however, treated the whole as a mere 



190 THE ALHAMBRA. 

dream, and laughed at the child for her credulity. He went 
forth to his customary labors in the garden, but had not been 
there long when his little daughter came running to him almost 
breathless. " Father ! father ! " cried she, " behold the myrtle 
wreath which the Moorish lady bound round my head." 

Lope Sanchez gazed with astonishment, for the stalk of the 
m} 7 rtle was of pure gold, and every leaf was a sparkling eme- 
rald ! Being not much accustomed to precious stones, he was 
ignorant of the real value of the wreath, but he saw enough to 
convince him that it was something more substantial than the 
stuff that dreams are generally made of, and that at any rate 
the child had dreamt to some purpose. His first care was to 
enjoin the most absolute secrecy upon his daughter ; in this 
respect, however, he was secure, for she had discretion far be- 
3*ond her years or sex. He then repaired to the vault where 
stood the statues of the two alabaster lymphs. He remarked 
that their heads were turned from the portal, and that the re- 
gards of each were fixed upon the same point in the interior of 
the building. Lope Sanchez could not but admire this most 
discreet contrivance for guarding a secret. He drew a line 
from the eyes of the statues to the point of regard, made a pri- 
vate mark on the wall, and then retired. 

All day, however, the mind of Lope Sanchez was distracted 
with a thousand cares. He could not help hovering within 
distant view of the two statues, and became nervous from the 
dread that the golden secret might be discovered. Eveiy foot- 
step that approached the place, made him tremble. He would 
have given any thing could he but turn the heads of the statues, 
forgetting that the}? had looked precisely in the same direction 
for some hundreds of t years, without any person being the 
wiser. "A plague upon them," he would say to himself, 
" they'll betray all. Did ever mortal hear of such a mode of 
guarding a secret!" Then, on hearing any one advance, he 
would steal off, as though his very lurking near the place would 
awaken suspicions. Then he would return cautiously, and peep 
from a distance to see if every thing was secure, but the sight 
of the statues would again call forth his indignation. "Ay, 
there they stand," would he say, "always looking, and look- 
ing, and looking, just where they should not. Confound them ! 
they are just like all their sex ; if they have not tongues to 
tattle with, they'll be sure to do it with their eyes ! " 

At length, to his relief, the long anxious day drew to a close. 
The sound of footsteps was no longer heard in the echoing 
halls of the Alhambra ; the last stranger passed the threshold, 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 191 

the great portal was barred and bolted, and the bat, and the 
frog, and the hooting owl gradually resumed their nightly 
vocations in the deserted palace. 

Lope Sanchez waited, however, until the night was far ad- 
vanced, before he ventured with his little daughter to the hall 
of the two uymphs. He found them looking as knowingly and 
mysteriously as ever, at the secret place of deposit. " By your 
leaves, gentle ladies," thought Lope Sanchez as he passed be- 
tween them, " I will relieve you from this charge that must 
have set so heavy on your minds for the last two or three cen- 
turies." He accordingly went to work at the part of the wall 
which he had marked, and in a little while laid open a con- 
cealed recess, in which stood two great jars of porcelain. He 
attempted to draw them forth, but they were immovable until 
touched by the innocent hand of his little daughter. With her 
aid he dislodged them from their niche, and found to his great 
joy, that they were filled with pieces of Moorish gold, mingled 
with jewels and precious stones. Before daylight he managed 
to convey them to his chamber, and left the two guardian 
statues with their eyes still fixed on the vacant wall. 

Lope Sanchez had thus on a sudden become a rich man, but 
riches, as usual, brought a world of cares, to which he had 
hitherto been a stranger. How was he to convey away his 
wealth with safety ? How was he even to enter upon the enjoy- 
ment of it without awakening suspicion? Now too, for the 
first time in his life, the dread of robbers entered into his mind. 
He looked with terror at the insecurity of his habitation, and 
went to work to barricade the doors and windows ; yet after all 
his precautions, he could not sleep soundly. His usual gayety 
was at an end ; he had no longer a joke or a song for his neigh- 
bors, and, in short, became the most miserable animal in the 
Alhambra. His old comrades remarked this alteration ; pitied 
him heartily, and began to desert him, thinking he must be fall- 
ing into want, and in danger of looking to them for assistance ; 
little did they suspect that his only calamity was riches. 

The wife of Lope Sanchez shared his anxiety ; but then she 
had ghostly comfort. We ought to before this have mentioned, 
that Lope being rather a light, inconsiderate little man, his 
wife was accustomed, in all grave matters, to seek the counsel 
and ministry of her confessor, Fray Simon, a sturdy, broad- 
shouldered, blue-bearded, bullet-headed friar of the neighbor- 
ing convent of San Francisco, who was, in fact, the spiritual 
comforter of half the good wives of the neighborhood. He 
was, moreover, in great esteem among divers sisterhoods of 



192 THE ALHAMBRA. 

nuns, who requited him for his ghostty services by frequent 
presents of those little dainties and knickknacks manufactured 
in convents, such as delicate confections, sweet biscuits, and 
bottles of spiced cordials, found to be marvellous restoratives 
after fasts and vigils. 

Fray Simon thrived in the exercise of his functions. His 
oily skin glistened in the sunshine as he toiled up the hill of 
the Alhambra on a sultry day. Yet notwithstanding his sleek 
condition, the knotted rope round his waist showed the auster- 
ity of his self-discipline ; the multitude doffed their caps to him 
as a mirror of piety, and even the dogs scented the odor of 
sanctit}' that exhaled from his garments, and howled from their 
kennels as he passed. 

Such was Fray Simon, the spiritual counsellor of the comely 
wife of Lope Sanchez, and as the father confessor is the domes- 
tic confidant of women in humble life in Spain, he was soon 
made acquainted, in great secrecy, with the story of the hidden 
treasure. 

The friar opened e} T es and mouth, and crossed himself a 
dr^zen times at the news. After a moment's pause, " Daughter 
of my soul ! " said he, "know that thy husband has committed 
a double sin, a sin against both state and church ! The treas- 
ure he has thus seized upon for himself, being found in the 
royal domains, belongs of course to the crown ; but being in- 
fidel wealth, rescued, as it were, from the very fangs of Satan, 
should be devoted to the church. Still, however, the matter 
may be accommodated. Bring hither the myrtle wreath." 

When the good father beheld it, his eyes twinkled more than 
ever, with admiration of the size and beauty of the emeralds. 
"This," said he, "being the first fruits of this discovery, 
should be dedicated to pious purposes. I will hang it up as 
a votive ofrering before the image of San Francisco in our 
chapel, and will earnestly pray to him, this very night, that 
your husband be permitted to remain in quiet possession of 
your wealth.*" 

The good aame was delighted to make her peace with heaven 
at so cheap a rate, and the friar, putting the wreath under his 
mantle, departed with saintly steps towards his convent. 

When Lope Sanchez came home, his wife told him what had 
passea. He was excessively provoked, for he lacked his wife's 
devotion, ana had for some time groaned in secret at the 
domestic visitations of the friar. "Woman," said he, "what 
hast thou cione ! Thou hast put every thing at hazard by thy 
tattling." 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 193 

"What!" cried the good woman, "would } t ou forbid my 
disburtheniug my conscience to my confessor? " 

" No, wife ! confess as many of your own sins as you please ; 
but as to this money-digging, it is a sin of my own, and my 
conscience is very easy under the weight of it." 

There was no use, however, in complaining ; the secret was 
told, and, like water spilled on the sand, was not again to be 
o-athered. Their only chance was, that the friar would be dis- 
creet. 

The next day, while Lope Saochez was abroad, there was an 
humble knocking at the door, and Fray Simon entered with 
meek and demure countenance. 

"Daughter," said he, "I have prayed earnestly to San 
Francisco, and he has heard my prayer. In the dead of the 
night the saint appeared to me in a dream, but with a frowning 
aspect. " Why," said he, " dost thou pray to me to dispense 
with this treasure of the Gentiles, when thou seest the poverty 
of my chapel? Go to the house of Lope Sanchez, crave in my 
name a portion of the Moorish gold to furnish two candlesticks 
for the main altar, and let him possess the residue in peace.' " 

When the good woman heard of this vision, she crossed her- 
self with awe, and going to the secret place where Lope had hid 
the treasure, she filled a great leathern purse with pieces of 
Moorish gold, and gave it to the friar. The pious monk be- 
stowed upon her in return, benedictions enough, if paid by 
heaven, to enrich her race to the latest posterity ; then slipping 
the purse into the sleeve of his habit, he folded his hands upon 
his breast, and departed with an air of humble thankfulness. 

When Lope Sanchez heard of this second donation to the 
church, he had well nigh lost his senses. u Unfortunate man," 
cried he, "what will become of me? I shall be robbed by 
piecemeal ; I shall be ruined and brought to beggary ! " 

It was with the utmost difficulty that his wife could pacify 
him by reminding him of the countless wealth that yet re- 
mained ; and how considerate it was for San Francisco to rest 
contented with so very small a portion. 

Unluckily, Fray Simon had a number of poor relations to be 
provided for, not to mention some half dozen sturdy, bullet- 
headed orphan children and destitute foundlings, that he bad 
taken under his care. He repeated his visits, therefore, from 
day to day, with salutations on behalf of Saint Dominick, Saint 
Andrew, Saint James, until poor Lope was driven to despair, 
and found that, unless he got out of the reach of this holy friar, 
he should have to make peace offerings to every saint in the 



194 THE ALHAMBRA. 

calendar. He determined, therefore, to pack up his remaining 
wealth, beat a secret retreat in the night, and make off to 
another part of the kingdom. 

Full of this project, he bought a stout mule for the purpose, 
and tethered it in a gloomy vault, underneath the tower of the 
Seven Floors, — the very place from whence the Bellado, or 
goblin horse without a head, is said to issue forth at midnight, 
and to scour the streets of Granada, pursued by a pack of hell- 
hounds. Lope Sanchez had little faith in the story, but availed 
himself of the dread occasioned b} r it, knowing that no one 
would be likely to pry into the subterranean stable of the phan- 
tom steed. He sent off his family in the course of the day, with 
orders to wait for him at a distant village of the Vega. As the 
night advanced, he conveyed his treasure to the vault under the 
tower, and having, loaded his mule, he led it forth, and cau- 
tiously descended the dusky avenue. 

Honest Lope had taken his measures with the utmost secrecy, 
imparting them to no one but the faithful wife of his bosom. 
By some miraculous revelation, however, they became known 
to Fray Simon ; the zealous friar beheld these infidel treasures 
on the point of slipping forever out of his grasp, and deter- 
mined to have one more dash at them for the benefit of the 
church and San Francisco. Accordingly, when the bells had 
rung for animas, and all the Alhambra was quiet, he stole out 
of his convent, and, descending through the gate of Justice, 
concealed himself among the thickets of roses and laurels that 
border the great avenue. Here he remained, counting the 
quarters of hours as they were sounded on the bell of the 
watch-tower, and listening to the dreary hootings of owls, and 
the distant barking of dogs from the gypsy caverns. 

At length, he heard the tramp of hoofs, and, through the 
gloom of the overshadowing trees, imperfectly beheld a steed 
descending the avenue. The sturdy friar chuckled at the idea 
of the knowing turn he was about to serve honest Lope. Tuck- 
ing up the skirts of his habit, and wriggling like a cat watching 
a mouse, he waited until his prey was directl} 7 before him, when 
darting forth from his leafy covert, and putting one hand on 
the shoulder, and the other on the crupper, he made a vault 
that would not have disgraced the most experienced master of 
equitation, and alighted well forked astride the steed. " Aha ! " 
said the sturdy friar, " we shall now see who best understands 
the game." 

He had scarce uttered the words, when the mule began to 
kick and rear and plunge, and then set off at full speed down 



LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 195 

the hill. The friar attempted to check him, but in vain. He 
bounded from rock to rock, and bush to bush ; the friar's habit 
was torn to ribbons, and fluttered in the wind ; his shaven poll 
received many a hard knock from the branches of the trees, 
and man} T a scratch from the brambles. To add to his terror 
and distress, he found a pack of seven hounds in full cry at his 
heels, and perceived, too late, that he was actually mounted 
upon the terrible Bellado ! 

Away they went, according to the ancient phrase, "pull 
devil, pull friar," down the great avenue, across the Plaza 
Nueva, along the Zacatin, around the Vivarambla, — never did 
huntsman and hound make a more furious run, or more infernal 
uproar. 

In vain did the friar invoke every saint in the calendar, and 
the holy virgin into the bargain ; every time he mentioned a 
name of the kind, it was like a fresh application of the spur, 
and made the Bellado bound as nisii as a house. Throuoh the 
remainder of the night was the unlucky Fray Simon carried 
hither and thither and whither he would not, until every bone 
in his body ached, and he suffered a loss of leather too grievous 
to be mentioned. At length, the crowing of a cock gave the 
signal of returning day. At the sound, the goblin steed wheeled 
about, and galloped back for his tower. Again he scoured the 
Vivarambla, the Zacatin, the Plaza Nueva, and the avenue of 
fountains, the seven clogs 3-elling and barking, and leaping up, 
and snapping at the heels of the terrified friar. The first streak 
of day had just appeared as they reached the tower ; here the 
goblin steed kicked up his heels, sent the friar a somerset 
through the air, plunged into the dark vault followed by the 
infernal pack, and a profound silence succeeded to the late 
deafening clamor. 

Was ever so diabolical a trick played off upon holy friar? A 
peasant going to his labors at early dawn, found the unfortunate 
Fray Simon lying under a fig-tree at the foot of the tower, but 
so bruised and bedeviled, that he could neither speak nor move. 
He was conveyed with all care and tenderness to his cell, and 
the story went that he had been waylaid and maltreated by 
robbers. A day or two elapsed before he recovered the use of 
his limbs : he consoled himself in the mean time, with the 
thoughts that though the mule with the treasure had escaped 
him, he had previously had some rare pickings at the infidel 
spoils. His first care on being able to use his limbs, was to 
search beneath his pallet, where he had secreted the myrtle 
wreath and the leathern pouches of gold, extracted from the 



196 THE ALHAMBEA. 

piety of dame Sanchez. What was his dismay at finding the 
wreath, in effect, but a withered branch of myrtle, and the 
leathern pouches filled with sand and gravel ! 

Fray Simon, with all his chagrin, had the discretion to hold 
his tongue, for to betray the secret might draw on him the 
ridicule of the public, and the punishment of his superior ; it 
was not until many years afterwards, on his death-bed, that he 
revealed to his confessor his nocturnal ride on the Bellado. 

Nothing was heard of Lope Sanchez for a long time after his 
disappearance from the Alhambra. His memory was always 
cherished as that of a merry companion, though it was feared, 
from the care and melancholy showed in his conduct shortly 
before his mysterious departure, that poverty and distress had 
driven him to some extremity. Some years afterwards, one of 
his old companions, an invalid soldier, being at Malaga, was 
knocked down and nearly run over by a coach and six. The 
carriage stopped; an old gentleman, magnificently dressed, 
with a bag-wig and sword , stepped out to assist the poor in- 
valid. What was the astonishment of the latter to behold in 
this grand cavalier, his old friend Lope Sanchez, who was actu- 
ally celebrating the marriage of his daughter Sanchica, with 
one of the first grandees in the land. 

The carriage contained the bridal party. There was dame 
Sanchez now grown as round as a barrel, and dressed out with 
feathers and jewels, and necklaces of pearls, and necklaces of 
diamonds, and rings on every finger, and altogether a finery of 
apparel that had not been seen since the days of Queen Sheba. 
The little Sanchica had now grown to be a woman, and for 
grace and beauty might have been mistaken for a duchess, if 
not a princess outright. The bridegroom sat beside her, rather 
a withered, spindle-shanked little man, but this only proved him 
to be of the true blue blood, a legitimate Spanish grandee being 
rarely above three cubits in stature. The match had been of 
the mother's making. 

Riches had not spoiled the heart of honest Lope. He kept 
his old comrade with him for several days ; feasted him like a 
king, took him to plays and bull-fights, and at length sent him 
away rejoicing, with a big bag of money for himself, and 
another to be distributed among his ancient messmates of the 
Alhambra. 

Lope always gave out that a rich brother had died in Amer- 
ica, and left him heir to a copper mine, but the shrewd gossips 
of the Alhambra insist that his wealth was all derived from his 
having discovered the secret guarded by the two marble nymphs 



MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR. 197 

of the Alhambra. It is remarked, that these very discreet 
statues continue even unto the present clay with their eyes fixed 
most significantly on the same part of the wall, which leads 
many to suppose there is still some hidden treasure remaining 
there, well worthy the attention of the enterprising traveller. 
Though others, and particularly all female visitors, regard 
them with great complacency, as lasting monuments of the 
fact, that women can keep a secret. 



MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR: 

THE FOUNDER OF THE ALHAMBRA. 

Having dealt so freely in the marvellous legends of the 
Alhambra, I feel as if bound to give the reader a few facts 
concerning its sober history, or rather the history of those mag- 
nificent princes, its founder and finisher, to whom Europe is 
indebted for so beautiful and romantic an Oriental monument. 
To attain these facts, I descended from this region of fancy 
and fiction, where eveiy thing is liable to take an imaginative 
tint, and carried my researches among the dusty tomes of the 
old Jesuit's library in the university. This once boasted 
repository of erudition is now a mere shadow of its former 
self, having been stripped of its manuscripts and rarest works 
by the French, while masters of Granada. Still it contains, 
among many ponderous tomes of polemics of the Jesuit fathers, 
several curious tracts of Spanish literature, and above all, a 
number of those antiquated, dusty, parchment-bound chroni- 
cles, for which I have a peculiar veneration. 

In this old library I have passed many delightful hours of 
quiet, undisturbed, literary foraging, for the keys of the doors 
and bookcases were kindly entrusted to me, and I was left alone 
to rummage at my leisure — a rare indulgence in those sanctua- 
ries of learning, which too often tantalize the thirsty student 
with the sight of sealed fountains of knowledge. 

In the course of these visits I gleaned the following particu- 
lars concerning the historical characters in question. 

The Moors of Granada regarded the Alhambra as a miracle 
of art, and had a tradition that the king who founded it dealt 
in magic, or at least was deepry versed in alchemy, by means 
of which, he procured the immense sums of gold expended in 



193 THE ALHAMBRA. 

its erection. A brief view of his reign will show the real secret 
of his wealth. 

The name of this monarch, as inscribed on the walls of some 
of the apartments, was Aben Abd'allah (i.e. the father of 
Abdallah), but he is commonly known in Moorish history 
as Mahamad Aben Alahmar (or Mahamad son of Alahmar), 
or simply Aben Alahmar, for the sake of brevity. 

He was born in Arjona, in the year of the Hegira, 591, of 
the Christian era, 1195, of the noble family of the Beni Nasar, 
or children of Nasar, and no expense was spared by his parents 
to fit him for the high station to which the opulence and dignity 
of his family entitled him. The Saracens of Spain were greatly 
advanced in civilization. Every principal city was a seat of 
learning and the arts, so that it was easy to command the most 
enlightened instructors for a youth of rank and fortune. Aben 
Alahmar, when he arrived at manly years, was appointed Al- 
ca} 7 de or governor of Arjona and Jaen, and gained great popu- 
larity by his benignity and justice. Some years afterwards, on 
the death of Aben Hud, the Moorish power of Spain was broken 
into factions, and many places declared for Mahamad Aben 
Alahmar. Being of a sanguine spirit and lofty ambition, he 
seized upon the occasion, made a circuit through the country, 
and was everywhere received with acclamation. It was in the 
year 1238 that he entered Granada amidst the enthusiastic 
shouts of the multitude. He was proclaimed king with every 
demonstration of joj T , and soon became the head of the 
Moslems in Spain, being the first of the illustrious line of Beni 
Nasar that had sat upon the throne. 

His reign was such as to render him a blessing to his subjects. 
He gave the command of his various cities to such as had dis- 
tinguished themselves by valor and prudence, and who seemed 
most acceptable to the people. He organized a vigilant police, 
and established rigid rules for the administration of justice. 
The poor and the distressed always found ready admission to 
his presence, and he attended personally to their assistance 
and redress. He erected hospitals for the blind, the aged, and 
infirm, and all those incapable of labor, and visited them fre- 
quently, not on set days, with pomp and form, so as to give time 
for every thing to be put in order and every abuse concealed, 
but suddenly and unexpectedly, informing himself by actual 
observation and close inquiry of the treatment of the sick, and 
the conduct of those appointed to administer to their relief. 

He founded schools and colleges, which he visited in the same 
manner, inspecting personally the instruction of the youth. He 



M AH AM AD A BEN ALAHMAR. 199 

established butcheries and public ovens, that the people might 
be furnished with wholesome provisions at just and regular 
prices. He introduced abundant streams of water into the 
city, erecting baths and fountains, and constructing aqueducts 
and canals to irrigate and fertilize the Vega. By these means, 
prosperity and abundance prevailed in this beautiful cit} r , its 
gates were thronged with commerce, and its warehouses filled 
with the luxuries and merchandise of every clime and country. 

While Mahamad Aben Alahmar was ruling his fair domains 
thus wisely and prosperously, he was suddenly menaced by the 
horrors of war. The Christians at that time, profiting by the 
dismemberment of the Moslem power, were rapidly regaining 
their ancient territories. James the Conqueror had subjected 
all Valentia, and Ferdinand the Saint was carrying his victo- 
rious armies into Andalusia. The latter invested the city of 
Jaen, and swore not to raise his camp until he had gained 
possession of the place. Mahamad Aben Alahmar was con- 
scious of the insufficiency of his means to carry on a war with 
the potent sovereign of Castile. Taking a sudden resolution, 
therefore, he repaired privately to the Christian camp, and 
made his unexpected appearance in the presence of King Ferdi- 
nand. "In me," said he, " } T ou behold Mahamad, king of 
Granada. I confide in your good faith, and put myself under 
your protection. Take all I possess, and receive me as your 
vassal." So saying, he knelt and kissed the king's hand in 
token of submission. 

King Ferdinand was touched by this instance of confiding 
faith, and determined not to be outdone in generosity. He 
raised his late rival from the earth and embraced him as a 
friend, nor would he accept the wealth he offered, but received 
him as a vassal, leaving him sovereign of his dominions, on 
condition of paying a yearly tribute, attending the cortes as 
one of the nobles of the empire, and serving him in war with a 
certain number of horsemen. 

It was not long after this that Mahamad was called upon for 
his military services, to aid King Ferdinand in his famous siege 
of Seville. The Moorish king sallied forth with five hundred 
chosen horsemen of Granada, than whom none in the world 
knew better how to manage the steed or wield the lance. It 
was a melancholy and humiliating service, however, for they 
had to draw the sword against their brethren of the faith. 
Mahamad gained a melancholy distinction by his prowess in 
this renowned conquest, but more true honor by the humanity 
which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to introduce into the usages 



200 THE ALHAMBRA. 

of war. When in 1248, the famous city of Seville surrendered 
to the Castilian monarch, Mahamad returned sad and full of 
care to his dominions. He saw the gathering ills that menaced 
the Moslem cause, and uttered an ejaculation often used by 
him in moments of anxiety and trouble: "How straightened 
and wretched would be our life, if our hope were not so spacious 
and extensive." x 

When the melancholy conqueror approached his beloved 
Granada, the people thronged forth to see him with impatient 
joy, for they loved him as a benefactor. They had erected 
arches of triumph in honor of his martial exploits, and wher- 
ever he passed he was hailed with acclamations, as El Galib, 
or the couqueror ; Mahamad shook his head when he heard the 
appellation, " Wa le Galib He Aid" exclaimed he : (there is no 
conqueror but God !) From that time forward, he adopted* this 
exclamation as a motto. He inscribed it on an oblique band 
across his escutcheon, and it continued to be the motto of his 
descendants. 

Mahamad had purchased peace by submission to the 
Christian yoke, but he knew that where the elements were so 
discordant, and the motives for hostility so deep and ancient, 
it could not be secure or permanent. Acting therefore upon 
an old maxim, "arm thyself in peace, and clothe thyself in 
summer," he improved the present interval of tranquillity by 
fortifying his dominions and replenishing his arsenals, and 
by promoting those useful arts which give wealth and real 
power to an empire. He gave premiums and privileges to the 
best artisans ; improved the breed of horses and other domestic 
animals ; encouraged husbandry ; and increased the natural 
fertility of the soil twofold by his protection, making the 
lonely valleys of his kingdom to bloom like gardens. He fos- 
tered also the growth and fabrication of silk, until the looms 
of Granada surpassed even those of Syria in the fineness and 
beauty of their productions. He, moreover, caused the mines 
of gold and silver, and other metals found in the mountainous 
regions of his dominions, to be diligently worked, and was the 
first king of Granada who struck money of gold and silver with 
his name, taking great care that the coins should be skilfully 
executed. 

It was about this time, towards the middle of the thirteenth 
century, and just after his return from the siege of Seville, that 



1 " Que angoste y miserabile eeria nuestra vida, sino fuera tan dilatada y espaciosa 
nuestra espeianza! " 



MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR. 201 

he commenced the splendid palace of the Alhambra; superim 
tending the building of it in person, mingling frequently among 
the artists and workmen, and directing their labors. 

Though thus magnificent in his works, and great in his enter- 
prises', he was simple in his person, and moderate in his enjoy- 
ments. His dress was not merely void of splendor, but so plain 
as not to distinguish him from his subjects. His harem boasted 
but few beauties, and these he visited but seldom, though they 
were entertained with great magnificence. His wives were 
daughters of the principal nobles,, and were treated by him as 
friends and rational companions ; what is more, he managed to 
make them live as friends with one another. 

He passed much of his time in his gardens ; especially in 
those of the Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest 
plants, and the most beautiful and aromatic flowers. Here he 
delighted himself in reading histories, or in causing them to be' 
read and related to him ; and sometimes, in intervals of leisure, 
employed himself in the instruction of his three sons, for whom 
he had provided the most learned and virtuous masters. 

As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a tributary 
vassal to Ferdinand, so he always remained loyal to his word, 
giving him repeated proofs of fidelity and attachment. When 
that renowned monarch died in Seville, in 1254, Mahamad 
Aben Alahmar sent ambassadors to condole with his successor, 
Alonzo X., and with them a gallant train of a hundred Moorish 
cavaliers of distinguished rank, who were to attend, each bear- 
ing a lighted taper round the ro}*al bier, during the funeral cere- 
monies. This grand testimonial of respect was repeated by 
the Moslem monarch during the remainder of his life, on each 
anniversary of the death of King Fernando el Santo, when 
the hundred Moorish knights repaired from Granada to Seville, 
and took their stations with lighted tapers in the centre of the 
sumptuous cathedral round the cenotaph of the illustrious 
deceased. 

Mahamad Aben Alahmar retained his faculties and vigor to 
an advanced age. In his seventy-ninth } T ear he took the field 
on horseback, accompanied by the flower of his chivalry, to 
resist an invasion of his territories. As the army sallied forth 
from Granada, one of the principal adalides or guides, who 
rode in the advance, accidentally broke his lance against the 
arch of the gate. The counsellors of the king, alarmed by this 
circumstance, which was considered an evil omen, entreated 
him to return. Their supplications were in vain. The king 
persisted, and at noon-tide the omen, say the Moorish chroni- 



202 THE ALUAMBRA. 

clers, was fatally fulfilled. Mahamad was suddenly struck 
with illness, and had nearly fallen from his horse. He was 
placed on a litter, and borne back towards Granada, but his 
illness increased to such a degree, that the}^ were obliged to 
pitch his tent in the Vega. His physicians were filled with con- 
sternation, not knowing what remedy to prescribe. In a few 
hours he died vomiting blood, and in violent convulsions. The 
Castilian prince, Don Philip, brother of Alonzo X., was by his 
side when he expired. His body was embalmed, enclosed in a 
silver coffin, and buried in the Alhambra, in a sepulchre of 
precious marble, amidst the unfeigned lamentations of his sub- 
jects, who bewailed him as a parent. 

Such was the enlightened patriot prince, who founded the 
Alhambra, whose name remains emblazoned among its most 
delicate and graceful ornaments, and whose memory is calcu- 
lated to inspire the loftiest associations in those who tread 
these fading scenes of his magnificence and glory. Though 
his undertakings were vast, and his expenditures immense, yet 
his treasury was always full ; and this seeming contradiction 
gave rise to the story that he was versed in magic art, and 
possessed of the secret for transmuting baser metals into gold. 

Those who have attended to his domestic policy, as here set 
forth, will easily understand the natural magic and simple 
alchemy which made his ample treasury to overflow. 



JUSEF ABUL HAGIAS: 

THE FINISHER OF THE ALHAMBRA. 

Beneath the governor's apartment in the Alhambra is the 
royal Mosque, where the Moorish monarchs performed their 
private devotions. Though consecrated as a Catholic chapel, 
it still bears traces of its Moslem origin ; the Saracenic columns 
with their gilded capitals, and the latticed gallery for the females 
of the harem, may yet be seen, and the escutcheons of the 
Moorish kings are mingled on the walls with those of the Cas- 
tilian sovereigns. 

In this consecrated place perished the illustrious Jnsef Abul 
Hagias, the high-minded prince who completed the Alhambra, 
and who, for his virtues and endowments, deserves almost 
equal renown with its magnanimous founder. It is with 



JUSEF ABUL HAGIAS. 203 

pleasure I draw forth from the obscurity in which it has too 
long remained, the Dame of another of those princes of a 
departed and almost forgotten race, who reigned in elegance 
and splendor in Andalusia, when all Europe was in comparative 
barbarism. 

Jusef Abul Hagias (or, as it is sometimes written, Haxis) 
ascended the throne of Granada in the year 1333, and his 
personal appearance and mental qualities were such as to win 
all hearts, and to awaken anticipations of a beneficent and 
prosperous reign. He was of a noble presence and great bodily 
strength, united to manly beauty. His complexion was exceed- 
ing fair, and, according to the Arabian chroniclers, he height- 
ened the gravity and majest3 T of his appearance by suffering 
his beard to grow to a dignified length, and dyeing it black. 
He had an excellent memory, well stored with science and erudi- 
tion ; he was of a lively genius, and accounted the best poet of 
his time, and his manners were gentle, affable, and urbane. 

Jusef possessed the courage common to all generous spirits, 
but his genius was more calculated for peace than war, and, 
though obliged to take up arms repeatedly in his time, he was 
generally unfortunate. He carried the benignity of his nature 
into warfare, prohibiting all wanton cruelty, and enjoining 
mercy and protection towards women and children, the aged 
and infirm, and all friars and persons of holy and recluse life. 
Among other ill-starred enterprises, he undertook a great cam- 
paign in conjunction with the king of Morocco, against the kings 
of Castile and Portugal, but was defeated in the memorable 
battle of Salado ; a disastrous reverse which had nearly proved 
a death blow to the Moslem power in Spain. 

Jusef obtained a long truce after this defeat, during whicn 
time he devoted himself to the instruction of his people and the 
improvement of their morals and manners. For this purpose 
he established schools in all the villages, with simple and uni- 
form s} T stems of education ; he obliged every hamlet of more 
than twelve houses to have a Mosque, and prohibited various 
abuses and indecorums, that had been introduced into the cere- 
monies of religion, and the festivals and public amusements 
of the people. He attended vigilantly to the police of the city, 
establishing nocturnal guards and patrols, and superintending 
all municipal concerns. 

His attention was also directed toward finishing the great 
architectural works commenced by his predecessors, and erect- 
ing others on his own plans. The Alhambra, which had been 
founded by the good Aben Alahmar, was now completed. Jusef 



204 THE ALHAMBRA, 

constructed the beautiful gate of Justice, forming the grand 
entrance to the fortress, which he finished in 1348. He likewise 
adorned many of the courts and halls of the palace, as may be 
seen by the inscriptions on the walls, in which his name repeat- 
edly occurs. He built also the noble Alcazar, or citadel of 
Malaga ; now unfortunately a mere mass of crumbling ruins, 
but which probably exhibited in its interior similar elegance and 
magnificence with the Alhambra. 

The genius of a sovereign stamps a character upon his time. 
The nobles of Granada, imitating the elegant and graceful 
taste of Jusef , soon filled the city of Granada with magnificent 
palaces ; the halls of which were paved in Mosaic, the walls 
and ceilings wrought in fret- work, and delicately gilded and 
painted with azure, vermilion, and other brilliant colors, or 
minutely inlaid with cedar and other precious woods ; specimens 
of which have survived in all their lustre the lapse of several 
centuries. 

Many of the houses had fountains, which threw up jets of 
water to refresh and cool the air. They had lofty towers also, 
of wood or stone, curiously carved and ornamented, and cov- 
ered with plates of metal that glittered in the sun. Such was the 
refined and delicate taste in architecture that prevailed among 
this elegant people ; insomuch, that to use the beautiful simile 
of an Arabian writer, " Granada, in the days of Jusef, was as 
a silver vase filled with emeralds and jacinths." 

One anecdote will be sufficient to show the magnanimity of 
this generous prince. The long truce which had succeeded the 
battle of Salado was at an end, and every effort of Jusef to 
renew it was in vain. His deadly foe, Alfonso XI. of Castile, 
took the field with great force, and laid siege to Gibraltar. 
Jusef reluctantly took up arms, and sent troops to the relief of 
the place ; when, in the midst of his anxiety, he received tid- 
ings that his dreaded foe had suddenl} 7 fallen a victim to the 
plague. Instead of manifesting exultation on the occasion, 
Jusef called to mind the great qualities of the deceased, and 
was touched with a noble sorrow. "Alas!" cried he, "the 
world has lost one of its most excellent princes ; a sovereign 
who knew how to honor merit, whether in friend or foe ! ' 

The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this mag- 
nanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish cavaliers 
partook of the sentiment of their king, and put on mourning 
for the death of Alfonso. Even those of Gibraltar, who had 
been so closely invested, when they knew that the hostile 
monarch lay dead in his camp, determined among themselves 



JUSEF ABUL HAG I AS. 205 

that no hostile movement should be made against the Chris- 
tians. 

The day on which the camp was broken up, and the army 
departed, bearing the corpse of Alfonso, the Moors issued in 
multitudes from Gibraltar, and stood mute and melancholy, 
watching the mournful pageant. The same reverence for the 
deceased was observed by all the Moorish commanders on the 
frontiers, who suffered the funeral train to pass in safety, bear- 
ing the corpse of the Christian sovereign from Gibraltar to 
Seville. 1 

Jusef did not long survive the enemy he had so generously 
deplored. In the year 1354, as he was one day praying in the 
ro} T al mosque of the Alhambra, a maniac rushed suddenly from 
behind, and plunged a dagger in his side. The cries of the king 
brought his guards and courtiers to his assistance. They found 
him weltering in his blood, and in convulsions. He was borne 
to the royal apartments, but expired almost immediately. The 
murderer was cut to pieces, and his limbs burnt in public, to 
gratify the fury of the populace. 

The body of the king was interred in a superb sepulchre of 
white marble ; a long epitaph in letters of gold upon an azure 
ground recorded his virtues. " Here lies a king and martyr of 
an illustrious line, gentle, learned, and virtuous ; renowned for 
the graces of his person and his manners ; whose clemency, 
piety, and benevolence were extolled throughout the kingdom 
of Granada. He was a great prince, an illustrious captain ; a 
sharp sword of the Moslems ; a valiant standard-bearer among 
the most potent monarchs," etc. 

The mosque still remains, which once resounded with the dy- 
ing cries of Jusef, but the monument which recorded his virtues 
has long since disappeared. His name, however, remains in- 
scribed among the ornaments of the Alhambra, and will be per- 
petuated in connection with this renowned pile, which it was his 
pride and delight to beautify. 

1 " Y los Moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibraltar despues que sopieron 
que el Rey Don Alonzo era muerto, ordenaron entresi que ninguno non fuesse osado de 
fazeruingun movimiento contra los Christianos, ni mover pelear contra ellos, estovieron 
todos quedos y dezian entre ellos que aquel dia inuriera un noble rey y gran principe del 
mundo! " 



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